


An Unfair Trade

by InfiniteSeahorse



Series: Trading [2]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Bottom Link (Legend of Zelda), Conversations, Fluff and Smut, Gerudo Outfit, Gerudo Town, Hand Jobs, Lingerie, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2020-05-13 08:18:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 25,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19247365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InfiniteSeahorse/pseuds/InfiniteSeahorse
Summary: Link was hoping to spend a relaxing evening at the Noble Canteen with his new Gerudo friends, but who should he bump into but Bozai, the man he seduced one night out in the desert and who he thought he'd never see again. The two disguised Hylians share drinks and converse, then realize they want more from each other at the end of the night.





	1. An Evening at the Bar

**Author's Note:**

> This is the sequel to A Fair Trade, so you can read that first if you'd like, but I wouldn't say it's necessary to understand what's going on in this story. 
> 
> Special thanks to GodlessOx for all the proofreading and the inspiration!

Link glided to a stop in front of the Sand-Seal Rally award platform and let go of his rented sand seal's leash. Both the seal and the Hylian were exhausted from the race they had just run. The last few hours had been filled by non-stop action, and Link was grateful for the cool breeze that rattled the palmettos sprouting from under the corners of the platform and dried the sweat soaking his hairline. Sensing its freedom, the seal immediately flopped over with a grunt and buried its fins in the sand. Link released his feet from the straps on his shield, an old hunk of metal he had found in a cave that was probably ready to be sold for scrap now that he'd used it to surf up and down sand dunes all day. He stood and straightened the elaborate golden headdress perched on his head. The Thunder Helm was his reward for running himself ragged over the past few days helping out the citizens of Gerudo Town. The Chief had made it clear that her precious heirloom was only his to borrow, and while it was probably not the most decorous way to do so, he felt he’d earned the right to wear it in whatever situation he chose. Its highest honor in his possession thus far had been to reflect the sun and Electric Lizalfos shocks as he wove through the flags on the sand-seal race course.

Shabonne, the woman in charge of the race track, thrust her pocket watch at Link as he walked over to the shade of a few tall palm trees in which she stood. Her companion, Tali, a strapping young woman with a hairstyle of gorgeously voluminous, tight red curls, shifted silently on the balls of her feet to watch his approach.

"You shaved thirty-six seconds off your best time yet!" The old Gerudo crowed. "I can't believe how fast you are, and with a rented seal, no less!"

Tali, the previous Sand-Seal Rally champion, nodded in agreement, or perhaps she was acknowledging the loss of her old record. It was hard to read her face in the light of the setting sun.

Link wasn’t about to argue with a professional about the merits of sand seal breeding, especially when he’d taken up the racing hobby only a few weeks ago. The seal he had chosen from the rental stall had adapted quickly to his style of commands, and the two of them had flown through the course like old partners. He would be sad to return it to its owner at the end of the day.

The two ladies agreed that there was nothing better to celebrate a new record being made than a round or two at the Noble Canteen, the most popular bar in Gerudo Town.

"Come on, Champion! Change your clothes behind the shrine over there and follow us!" said the elder.

Link looked down at his outfit. He'd forgotten that he was wearing his _voe_ clothes, which, while excellent to wear in the desert heat, made it abundantly clear that he was a man. His identity was probably the worst kept secret in all the desert, but rules were rules, and the guards would not let him past the gates unless he was disguised as a woman. So he dutifully changed and trotted after his two giant companions. As their little procession wended their way through the city, they attracted plenty of attention, and by the time they arrived at the bar, their number had increased by about a dozen. Link was at the back of the pack by then, but he didn't mind. He was just glad to be caught up in the camaraderie.

The crowd at the bar was thick, and Link waited patiently for his party to put in their orders first. When it was his turn, he stepped up and asked Furosa, the sole bartender, in his politest voice for a Noble Pursuit.

"Sorry, miss," came the curt reply. "We don't serve minors here. Why don't you go to the day care down the road."

Link tried out a charming smile before he remembered that his veil obscured his face. "I see that you're put off by my youthful looks. I assure  you, I'm over one hundred years old!"

"I don't think so, sweetie. Come back in a few years." She reached for some empty bottles left on the counter top, unwilling to spend any more time on a fruitless exchange of words.

Frustrated, Link looked over across the room to Shabonne and Tali, who were chatting with a group of assorted hangers-on. They would be no help in confirming his age, and he realized as he failed to grab their attention, they seemed to have forgotten about him entirely. Turning back to Furosa, he said, "The last time I was here, I was served alcohol!"

"Not from me you weren't!" She glared as she dried a bottle with a brilliant white rag. Technically, she was correct, as the last time he had a beverage here he was nineteen, not 119, and Furosa hadn’t even been born yet. He knew that was a futile argument to have, as previous experience had shown that hardly anyone believed his true age.

Sighing, about ready to concede, he asked, "How about a glass of milk, then?"

Furosa puffed up with irritation as she hissed, "Milk? You can't be serious! We don't sell anything as childish as milk here! This is your last warning. Get going before I throw you out!"

Link was just about to ask her if she would also deny a drink to the Chief of the Gerudo, who was several years younger than his apparent age, if she happened to walk into the bar; when a tall Hylian _vai_ with dark hair and glasses stepped up to the counter next to him, and in a strained falsetto, ordered two Noble Pursuits.

The bartender squinted at her new customer and relented, but not before warning, "That better not be for the little miss there!"

Link interjected, ”No, I'll be having a hydromelon agua fresca, please." He knew that was on the menu; he remembered someone ordering it the day he came to inform Furosa of her best customer's whereabouts.

While he waited for Furosa to fix his drink, Link looked over at the lady next to him and realized with a shock that it was Bozai! The jogging enthusiast who had given Link both pairs of his boots was dressed in the same style of clothing that the hero himself was wearing, though each item of the other man’s wardrobe was a hodgepodge of different colors. Instead of a scarf adorning his head, a slim jeweled headband held his hair back from his face, and as he turned to greet his old acquaintance, Link noticed how Bozai’s glasses magnified the effect of the mascara and eyeshadow applied to his large, dark eyes.

Bozai greeted Link with a raised eyebrow and said, ”Well, my darling little adventurer! We meet again!”

“Hi," returned Link and gave him a half-hearted wave of acknowledgement. A rising surge of panic propelled his thoughts: _Should I make a run for the bathroom and climb out a window? Or stay and explain why I left him in the middle of the night?_

Bozai nodded his head at the trio of drinks the bartender had slammed on the counter. He made sure that Furosa was distracted by more customers at the other end of the bar before he asked, "Care to grab a quiet corner, catch up on old times, and join me in a drink? First round's on me!"

The friendliness of his request startled Link, but after a moment or two, Bozai’s confident attitude and the prospect of a free drink won him over, and he graciously accepted the offer.

 

* * *

 

Whispers followed them to a booth in the back of the bar.

“That's the _vai_ who found Barta...twice!"

"...she killed a Molduga just to get its guts for my cousin's husband. He's recovering from sandfly fever..."

"Didn't you hear? That's the little _vai_ who tamed Naboris!"

Bozai stumbled when he heard the last one. _I went down on the Champion?_

He'd heard the news when the Chief went out into the desert south of town, and then, the very next day when the great dust cloud settled back into the sand and the horizon cleared for the first time in months, he had been just as jubilant as the other citizens to see the change. Word spread quickly about a courageous foreign _vai_ who aided the Gerudo in victory, but he hadn't put two and two together…

_Of course it was her. Anyone who would selflessly climb a snowy mountain to find evidence of a long-lost legend would also be the kind of person who wrangles giant, terrifying, electric-sandstorm-creating beasts and wins!_ A spring formed in his step when he realized his brush with fame. _And I caught her attention! Me! Ol' Bozai's seen her naked!_

They sat down at a table close to a group of couches occupied by a lively, non-sand seal-related party. Bozai slid one of the cocktail-filled mugs across the table to his companion.

"I advise you to take it slow. They mix them here for eight-foot-tall women,” Bozai raised his hand above his head, "and we are," he lowered it to rest atop his headband, "much smaller. No offense, of course! I think you're the perfect size," he finished, a blush creeping out from beneath his veil.

Link raised the mug to his lips and took a taste. A fruity aroma with a cooling finish issued from the deep purple liquid. _Supremely refreshing_ , he thought as he smacked his lips, _and very strong_.

"Hang on, I'm going to ask for some straws. This veil is a pain to drink around,” Bozai complained, and left to hunt down the utensils.

By the time the other Hylian came back with a handful of straws clutched in his hand, Link had decided on a topic of conversation that would answer the new question burning in his gut. "So, why are you still here? I thought you said you were going to leave town after the last time we met?"

"Well," the awkward older man began, and sipped his drink through pursed lips. “No doubt you recall that you left me barefoot. In the desert." He spoke slowly in clipped tones, punctuating his sentences with sips of his drink. "The guards here in town had no mercy for me, so I made my way to Kara Kara Bazaar. Took me two days, traveling only during the night. I asked around, and found a merchant selling second-hand clothing. She sold me some shoes, and these too." He gestured at his feminine outfit. "She told me they suited me, but I don't know about that. I think it was just a sales tactic. An effective one, but still, ehhh..." He shifted in his chair and picked at the beaded collar of his blouse.

Since the newly disguised man seemed to be inviting commentary about the effectiveness of his wardrobe, Link turned his eye to sartorial critique. The strategic padding in Bozai’s emerald green halter top added a suggestion of breasts to his wide-shouldered frame, an addition that the Champion hadn’t bothered to utilize for his own outfit. He had not taken the time to look as they were walking to their seats, but he was willing to bet that Bozai’s hips were similarly enhanced as well. The tall Hylian sat primly in his seat, hardly speaking, brushing a lock of hair that had escaped from his headband away from his nose, and was rather obviously staring at the other patrons of the bar. It was kind of strange to see Bozai so out of his element. All of their previous interactions had been marked by his bluster and bravado. Sure, he was plenty awkward too, but that awkwardness was tempered by his oversized sense of self-importance and the pure force of his will.

"I like your makeup," Link said, sidestepping the implied question of whether he was acceptably female or not. "Especially your eyebrows. Bold shapes really work on you."

"You do? Thanks!” Soaking in the compliment, Bozai added, "I asked the concierge at my hotel, and she told me about this place-"

"You asked the what now?" Link interrupted. "Where are you staying?"

"Oh, at the Royal Palm Suites,” Bozai answered with an air of studied nonchalance that was clearly meant to signify something important. The resurrected knight combed his spotty memory for a recollection of the hotel’s name. Had he walked past it before? Seen the sign and changed his mind? It did sound familiar…

“Ah, right. I've heard of that place.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “Sort of tucked away in a corner of the city? Gems inset onto the front doors, and a really, really, _really_ tall doorwoman waiting nearby?”

“That’s the one!” Bozai confirmed with a pleased look in his eye.

Link continued, “Never stayed there though, even when I had a bunch of rupees to blow. I usually stay at the Hotel Oasis when I want a roof over my head."

"You can sleep there? I thought it was just a massage parlor."

"Yeah, they have a spa in the front, and lodging in the rear." Link snorted, unable to stop his mind from heading straight to the gutter. Perhaps the bartender was right to refuse him a drink, if this was the height and sophistication of his sense of humor.

"But anyway, getting back to my story—" Bozai plunged back into his narrative, finally beginning to loosen up, "it was to my benefit that I was left unshod! As you can see, it ended up bringing us back together! Once I realized my advantage in these special clothes, I thought, ah ha! Here's my chance to see what Gerudo life is all about!"

Link put down his drink and chided in mock outrage, ”So you infiltrated the city and now you're spying on them?"

"What? No!" Bozai raised his hands as if to deflect the accusation, bracelets jangling with his sudden motion. Sheepishly he amended, "I'm researching. I was getting less than nowhere outside the gates, so I just thought..."

Link wasn't surprised to hear him admit that his tactics were ineffective at attracting positive attention. A little self-awareness would go a long way in that man's case. Personally, he thought Bozai had looked like a turbo moron running in circles through the sand outside Gerudo City, but his tact prevented him from actually telling that to the self-professed scholar.

"But so far," Bozai went on, "my research has been in vain. I've been learning so much, so I thought I'd start flirting a little with my new information in mind, but it's not working. I don't know what I'm doing wrong!" The lonely fool started detailing all the tidbits of info he had picked up, from the daily schedules of the most attractive Gerudo women to all the different words for sweat he had overheard. Then he launched into an explanation of the various methods of flirting he had been trying out.

_Blah blah blah._ This was the man Link remembered. The one who wouldn't shut up. He allowed his mind to wander, making vague noises of interest and nodding his head when he sensed a lull in the monologue. Bozai was right about one thing, however: the veil was a pain to drink around. He rolled up the offending flap of fabric and tucked it up behind its tie, leaving his mouth and one side of his jaw exposed. The Champion of Hyrule spent some time chasing his straw around his mug with his tongue. When he caught Bozai looking at him (slack-jawed behind his veil no doubt) he grabbed the straw between two fingers, gave the end of it a little flicking lick, then curled his tongue around it to slurp up the melted remains of his drink with exaggerated gusto. The lascivious maneuver just toed the line of public propriety, and predictably, it worked to stop the other man from talking.

Link asked, “Are you flirting inside the town or outside?” with the hope that he would receive a one or two word answer in return.

“Mainly in town. Why?”

“Inside the walls, the Gerudo probably think you're giving them compliments, just being friendly and all. Outside the walls, well, I don't have any advice for you there.”

“Um.” Bozai took his time to digest this new piece of information.

Link continued, ”How many ladies here do you think go for...other women?"

Bozai cocked his head. "Why would you say that?"

Link picked up his hydromelon juice, swallowed an extra large gulp, and rolled his eyes. Never mind about his previous conclusion about the desperate single’s new-found sense of awareness, the guy was terminally clueless. That much was clear.

"Because you're dressed like a woman, in a town restricted to women, and you look enough like a woman for the other women to consider you one as well?"

Bozai looked like he had been run over by a sand seal.

"And what do you think will happen when you do manage to get a date? Will she be _happy_ surprised or _angry_ surprised to find out that you're actually, you know..." Link didn't say the last word out loud. Even if no one was actively listening to their conversation, why chance it?

Bozai sank to the surface of the table, cradling his head in his arms. “I’m an idiot! Why did I never realize…”

“Hey there, it happens to the best of us,” Link said gently, trying to keep the laughter out of his voice. “Maybe you’ll remember for your next try tomorrow.”

Bozai made quite a pitiful sight as he thumped his forehead repeatedly against the table. He finally lifted his head, glasses and headband askew, and said with a pleading look in his eyes, “But it worked on you! I asked you out for drinks and you accepted!”

“We know each other already. And I was already in the bar…”

"But… but that's what you did to me!" Bozai said with the smuggest look he'd ever seen a pair of eyebrows make.

The blond Hylian protested, "That was completely different!" Though the only difference he could name at the moment was the choice of venue for their ‘date’. "I thought you knew! You seemed to be completely fine with it at the time!" It didn't make him feel any better to shift the blame to the other man, but this came as quite a shock to the young hero, and he didn’t know what else to say.

“I told you that night,” the love-addled man reminded him, “that you gave me a surprise. But I overcame it, and I had a good time. So no harm done, really.”

 

* * *

 

The wooing wanderer talked at length about everything and nothing while the resurrected Champion listened as best he could. They were occasionally interrupted by appreciative ladies stopping by to congratulate Link on taming the Beast, or thanking him for some kindness he had recently performed. Bozai did not miss the way the hero’s eyes turned down at each compliment, or the way his voice reduced to a whisper when he spoke a few words in response.

_So modest,_ he thought to himself. _She’s gorgeous and humble. I’ve never seen this side of her before. What an attractive combination!_

“What's your plan then, once you leave Gerudo Town?" Link asked his drinking companion, who was gazing disconnectedly at a pair of women playing checkers at the next table. Whatever direction Bozai said he was going, Link would make sure to go anywhere else. It was fine to run into the man once or twice, but he had no intention of making this a regular thing, or striking up a friendship with him.

Bozai drained the last of his Noble Pursuit and sighed. "I have a few ideas, but my most pressing concern is, well, I'm starting to run low on funding. I'm originally from the Tabantha Hill Country. My father gave me money to, and I quote, 'Make something of yourself, boy. There's plenty of opportunities out there for a tenacious young man, but you have to go out and grab them first!'" He sighed again and slumped in his seat. “I’ve been making a living dealing in rare and useful boots, with the eventual goal of opening up a shop in Tabantha Village. It got burned down by a roving gang of Moblins about ten years ago, but it's close to both the prime hunting snowfields and the Hebra Mountains, so I think if it got cleaned up and rebuilt it would be pretty popular.” He stopped and perked up in his chair. “Am I boring you?”

“No, not at all!” the traveler answered. “I love stories of renewal and rebuilding. It gives me hope for the future, to see people continuing their lives in the face of Ganon’s destruction. it might sound cheesy, but it’s the truth.” He shrugged one shoulder and twiddled with his straw again, this time using only his fingers.

Bozai’s voice softened as he said, “That sounds lovely, actually. And it’s just how I imagine your mind working. Underneath your insatiable need for boots and all that sass, you’ve got a big soft heart, don’t you!”

_Oh crap._ He’d let something personal slip. Damn those Gerudo and their delicious alcoholic elixirs.

“So anyway,” Bozai continued, unperturbed by the return of Link’s stony silence, “I had some money, and a pair of snow boots. I decided to come out to the desert and see what's happening in footwear, but I discovered that the only cobbler who made sand boots died years ago without passing on her information. What a tragedy, am I right? Any way, I got a little sidetracked with the women here. Gorgeous beauties, every one, and all of them completely uninterested in poor ol’ Bozai! Of course, the history and the forgotten lore of the area sucked me in, too. Now I'll be going back with some supplies, but no boots, nothing to base prototypes on but my own memories. I was hoping to travel back with a girlfriend, or even a wife, but..." Link picked up his agua fresca at just the right time to miss the possessive look that Bozai shot at him.

"So does that mean you've given up on women?"

Bozai shook his head vehemently. "I still like women... a lot." He looked around appreciatively at the customers in the bar, then leaned forward and added in a failed whisper that carried powerfully across the table, "But I think I like sucking dicks too."

"Preach it, sister!" shouted an inebriated Gerudo who happened to be walking past their table, and she slapped Bozai's shoulder with a force that knocked him halfway off his chair.

He picked himself back up and winced, rubbing his shoulder and continuing to say, ”As long as it's attached to a pretty girl like you. That clothes seller offered me a 'special discount', but I turned her down… she wasn't my type."

Link giggled, a knowing smile curled unseen beneath his veil. All too soon, he found himself staring at the empty bottom of his mug. He looked over to his other drink and remembered that it had been empty for a long time.

"Are you ready for another round?" he asked. "I can't order them, but I’ll foot the bill for whatever you get!”

“I’d be happy to get us some more drinks! Are you up for another Noble Pursuit? Or something to eat as well? I think they serve snacks here, if you’re willing to wait a little longer.” Bozai smiled down at Link as he stood to return to the bar.

“Oh, no need for snacks, I brought my own!” Link declared, and dug out a handful of roasted nuts from the pouch at his waist. He picked a piece of lint off the largest acorn and dumped them on the table. “I’ve got enough to share… if you come back soon.” He popped a few nuts into his mouth and grinned as he chewed.

Bozai looked from the bar, to Link, who was doing an admirable impression of a squirrel stuffing its face with nuts, then back again to the bar, and coughed. “It’s pretty busy in here, actually. I think everyone’s still working off their taming-of-Naboris excitement. Don’t feel like you have to save any of those on my account. I’ll be back as soon as I can!”

A warm feeling of well-being suffused through Link's body and mind as he sat waiting for Bozai to come back with their drinks. It was easy to forget his cares and worries. The ever-present gnawing of his duty was mercifully dulled by the sweet liquid fire he had been imbibing.

"I can't believe we've only been talking about me all evening! I do apologize for my rudeness. We didn’t get a chance to spend much time talking together before, did we? Whoosh! Total whirlwind! And now here I am, dominating the conversation like an oaf. I’m so sorry! What has brought you back into town?" Bozai asked as he returned with fresh drinks.

Eyes sparkling with the memories of the day, the Champion replied, ”Oh you know, I thought I'd take a small break from my usual heroic antics and do some sand seal racing. I’ve been breaking and setting records all day, actually!”

Bozai made a face, disgust apparent through his disguise. "Ugh, sand seals. Not my favorite, honestly. They're loud, hard to steer, and so smelly!” He paused to point across the room at something behind Link. “Speaking of broken records, I think you may have broken some hearts along with them!”

Following Bozai’s gesture, Link twisted around to see a familiar pile of bright red curls splayed across a table halfway across the room. A pair of shoulders could just be seen shaking behind the hair, and Link could also make out a hand grasping a large belt buckle decorated with a stylized sand seal. The unmistakable sound of brokenhearted sobbing drifted through the buzz of the establishment.

"Oh no, that's Tali! She was so happy for me when we were racing earlier! In a sort of stoic way." Link pushed his chair back to rise from his seat. "I'm going to go over there and see what I can do to help."

Bozai reached across the table and grabbed his hand before he could fully stand. "I think you're liable to do more harm than good... besides, she's got some friends with her, she'll be fine."

Link shot him a glance that said, _I can't believe you just gave me some good advice!_ and sank back down into his chair.

"I told you I've been learning about women!” the scholar said triumphantly.

Link tried to steer the conversation back to the previous topic, but the fresh infusion of Noble Pursuit into his system was letting his tongue run too fast for his mind to catch up to. The result was slightly confusing to his companion, who was dealing with his own heightened level of intoxication.

“You know, it’s too bad you feel that way about them. I mean sand seals, not women!” Link added hastily when he caught the baffled look Bozai threw at him. “I could have given you a ride around the dunes east of here.”

“That’s sweet of you, but I would have to turn you down, for several reasons. Only one of which is my distaste for sand seals. I am planning on leaving here early tomorrow morning. I have a long and lonesome journey to embark on, and— 

The adventurer interrupted, “If you’re leaving town, maybe you could find someone on the road. Save them from a monster. That usually works for me!"

Bozai was silent for awhile. ”Hmm, I suppose that is one way of going about it. But fighting monsters... that's so extreme! I'd prefer to stay away from the monsters, myself. It's so dangerous out there these days, even for seasoned adventurers!”

The matter of fact remark hit Link like a blow from a Lizalfos’ tail.

_Thank you for reminding me that it's all my fault._

It was his sworn duty to rid the world of the scourge of Ganon and its Malice, and he'd been upholding that duty almost tirelessly for months now. Forcing himself to stay active kept his feelings of hopelessness at bay, up until he collapsed from exhaustion. Interacting with Bozai was turning out to be one of his rare indulgences, along with practicing the varied forms of shield surfing that could be found across the land. It was quieter times like these when anxiety crept back in, whispering from the dark crevices of his mind, and squeezing an electric grip on his heart. As much as he knew he needed the occasional break from his endless valor, even to remind himself of what he was fighting for, he seldom followed his own advice. Vah Naboris had been the last Divine Beast he had needed to tame, but the accomplishment he felt dulled in comparison to the despair that welled up in his soul whenever the moon rose red and raw to undo all of his hard work.

Link broke through his dark thoughts and ended the silence to ask, “Well, what about a horse stable?”

“Excuse me?” Bozai had the grace to look politely puzzled.

Link was finding it even harder to organize his thoughts after consuming just one and a half Noble Pursuits. “The women there. At the Hyrulean Stabling System. Not just any girls, but the ones who work there. Lifting hay all day, mucking out stables. Wrangling horses. Makes a woman strong, you know, well, that work would make anyone strong, but..." He gestured a little wildly with his hands to make his point. "That's the way you like them, right? And it’s not sand seals, horses smell completely different.” A grin plastered itself across the knight’s face. The tips of his ears were practically twitching with glee. This was a solid lead. Bozai would have to give the idea a chance.

"Yeah, I suppose that's an idea," Bozai muttered, looking dejectedly down at the table.

_What was his problem?_ Link thought with considerable frustration. For someone who was a self-confessed connoisseur of femininity, he sure wasn’t excited about actually putting himself on the market, and he certainly wouldn’t attract anyone moping about like that.

Looking nervous like he hadn’t been since the beginning of the evening, Bozai dipped under the table to retrieve something from his backpack. "I guess this is a good a time as any to give this to you." He took a deep breath, and held out a package in his hands. "I've been hoping against hope to see you again, and I believe the Eight Heroines brought us together on my last night in Gerudo Town. Please accept this with my love!"

Link took the present and began to unwrap it with a mix of curiosity and dread. The wrapping paper felt thick and smooth under his prying fingers, and it had probably been a bright white before its extended stay in Bozai's backpack. Beneath the paper was a wide flat box, similarly unadorned.

_It doesn't weigh enough to be something like a knife or a bundle of arrows,_ Link mused. _So what can it be?_ He lifted the lid and gasped. A confection of bright pink lace, liberally festooned with golden bows and dripping with matching ribbons, bloomed from the wrappings. He raised the slip of fabric to eye level to more closely examine its structure and came up bereft of an explanation. _Is it a dress? Or maybe a night gown? Holy Hylia, is this underwear?_ He thought about shaking it out to see it in all its frilly glory, but remembered that they were in the middle of a public establishment. He looked to Bozai for guidance instead.

"I know it's not boots, but... do you like it?" The would-be suitor pushed his glasses up with a ringed finger and leaned forward, anticipating a favorable answer.

“I-I-I don't have the words for it, really. What a thoughtful gift!" It was true that a lot of thought went into it. A lot of misguided thought, effort, and rupees had gone to waste as well. The lingerie was certainly stylish, just not his style, and _not_ something he was willing to wear, even to humor the gift giver.

However… here was an unambiguous sign, if he wanted to follow it. Bozai was desperate, he could see the hungry look in the man’s eyes as he stared across the table. If he wasn’t going to take any of the hints Link had lobbed at him all night that their relationship was dead in the water, then the Champion was just going to make sure he got his, and damn the consequences. The small blond _vai_ leaned forward and crooked his finger, gesturing for Bozai to come closer.

"I can see you undressing me with your eyes over there,” he whispered, moving close enough for the first time all night to smell the other man’s darkly floral perfume. “How would you like to undress me with your hands... in your hotel room?"


	2. A Night at the Hotel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This kept getting longer and longer, so there will be another chapter...eventually. Hope y'all enjoy this!

A quiet melody filtered through the lobby of the Royal Palm Suites as Bozai walked Link to his room. Gerudo culture was not known for its understated or restrained decorating style, and the hotel was a prime example of their 'if you've got it, flaunt it' philosophy. The young hero slowed down, his slippers shuffling quietly along the dense pile of an ornately knotted rug as he craned his neck to stare at the luxury on display. 

Despite the lateness of the hour, light blazed from multiple lamps and chandeliers to glitter and shine upon the jeweled and gilded decorations installed all over the interior of the building. He shifted his focus from the quartet of musicians perched discreetly on a balcony, across the intricately carved and painted panels inset into the adobe walls and ceiling, then over to the impressive displays of floral arrangements grouped amidst the furniture on the floor. There was no time to stop and look for koroks, however, as Bozai was tugging at Link’s elbow to guide him over to a barely visible hallway tucked off to one side of the lobby. The entrance was marked by a pair of sconces cast in the form of stylized palm fronds.

“Methinks the lady has been captivated!” Bozai said with a purr, grabbing the distracted adventurer’s hand and enfolding it with his own. “I assure you, my room looks the same, and you can admire _that_ at your leisure.”

"By Hylia, Bozai, how much is this place a night?" Link asked with awe in his voice as he wormed his hand free to cross the hallway. A small golden statue placed in a niche had caught his attention, and he raised his hand in preparation to poke at it.

Glasses flashing as he shook his head in annoyance, Bozai recaptured Link’s hand and placed a lingering kiss on the back of it. He replied testily, "Enough that I need to go home tomorrow, if I counted my rupees correctly. Let's go so we can make the most of this last night!"

Followed closely by the Champion, the taller man stumbled into his hotel room. It was small by Gerudo standards, but spacious enough in the Hylians’ eyes. High ceilings gave an air of expansiveness to their surroundings, and, like the lobby, it was richly decorated with plush rugs, dazzling tapestries, and solidly built wooden furniture. Bozai kicked off his shoes, aiming them across the room, and removed his veil, headband, and glasses all at once with excessive force.

"You're drunk!" Link said, amused by Bozai's sloppy enthusiasm.

"It's not the alcohol, I swear!" he said as he wrestled with his armbands. "I'm just not used to these clothes, or the extra accessories. I dressed up ‘specially for the bar, and I didn't realize that it would be so complicated!”

"Here, hold still then, I'll help you." Link went for the jewelry first, unclasping the chain that circled Bozai's waist and noting the dark line of prickly stubble trailing from his navel to his waistband. "You went all out, didn't you?" he asked, sliding the backs of his fingers up his stomach.

"I shaved everywhere! Well, everywhere visible, anyway. I'm starting to think it was the biggest mistake of my life, I'm so fucking itchy! Excuse my language, I don't mean to be so coarse," Bozai added, balancing on one leg to scratch his shin. Peering at him with a gaze both curious and lust-filled, he continued to shed pieces of clothing with Link's help. "How do you manage it?"

"Look closer," Link said once the eager man was completely nude, inviting his gaze by stepping over to a colorfully upholstered ottoman. He hiked up his leg and rested his still-slippered foot upon the cushion. "What color is my hair?"

Bozai moved to kneel at Link's side, inspecting his leg with both his eyes and his hands. "Golden," he breathed. "Are you sure you aren't Hylia's emissary on earth?"

A knot twisted in Link's stomach. This was the worst time to be reminded of Zelda. He breathed deeply, bit his lip under the cover of his veil, and pointed out, "It's also practically invisible in most light. I never thought about shaving it." His line of thought broke off as the other man scooped him into a tight embrace and tore off his head coverings. "Oh. I guess conversation time is over." His voice was quickly muffled by Bozai's hungry lips upon his own.

The door to the room was firmly closed; Link had made sure of it after he passed through. But after sharing a few heated kisses, he broke away from Bozai, tilting his head to listen to the strains of lobby music seeping through the walls. It added favorably to the atmosphere, but Link couldn't help but wonder why he could still hear the quartet.

"What's wrong, my darling? Is something the matter?" Bozai asked, running his thumb along the soft line of Link’s jaw, then nibbling his way down the side of his neck.

"Do you hear that music? Is that from the lobby?"

Bozai stopped to listen as well, then answered, "Mmm, I think it is. It's nice, really adds to the ambiance, don't you think?" He went right back to where he left off, snaking his arms around Link's chest to unbutton the closures on his top.

 _Well, if he doesn’t care about music coming into the room, then I won’t care about any other sounds coming out of the room,_ Link decided. _It’s not like I’ll ever be back here anyway_.

They resumed making out, sharing deep, frantic kisses that left them both gasping for air. Bozai pushed Link backwards, his erection pressing insistently against the hero's lower abdomen as he guided him toward the bed. Link was letting the other man take control and set the pace, and he found that he was fine with this turn of events. After all, a night of adventure with an enthusiastic partner was what he wanted. Bozai checked all the boxes. He was fulfilling the resurrected knight’s need to be touched, and he knew from previous experience that he was more than satisfactory in bed. They would have fun in the moment, but he would try his best to make sure this would never happen again. The love struck fool was inclined to take whatever he did or said as a sign that he returned his affections, so he would have to remember to disengage firmly yet tactfully at the end of the night. Or morning. Whenever they parted.

Already he could sense a change in Bozai's attitude from their last time together. The man was driven, aggressive in a way that was turning out to be as attractive as his previous obedience had been during their first encounter. It was unremarkable then, when Link found himself first pushed against the bed, then splayed across an impressive amount of decorative pillows. Bozai began attempting to remove his sirwal, but was overly distracted by the tent being pitched in the silk. He kept stopping to palm Link through the fabric, as if checking to see what was beneath was real and attached to the rest of him.

"No surprises this time!" the reclining hero piped up.

Bozai looked up from where he was untying a persistent knot in his sash. "I know exactly what I'm getting into now," he agreed. Nose wrinkling, he withdrew his face from his midriff. "Except for that smell. Um. I don't mind a bit of sweat, considering we're in the desert and all, but, oh geez, you smell like sand seal." He retreated farther, sitting up and fanning under his nose. "Why is that so strong?" he muttered.

"Sorry about that," Link said with a laugh. "Um, what should I do—"

"Hey, how about I wipe you down?" Bozai crossed the room to the vanity. "I couldn't afford an en suite, so this will have to do in lieu of an actual bath or shower. Which reminds me, the bathroom is down the hall if you need it later.” 

He dampened a cloth from the pitcher placed there, then squinting a little to make his selection, added a drop or two of liquid from a small bottle clustered among many similar others in a golden tray. While Bozai was studiously preparing the cleansing cloth, Link studied the body on display. He made a much better man than a woman, he concluded. Before, in the desert, the jogging enthusiast had not removed all of his clothing, and he wasn't paying much attention then anyway. But what he saw now interested him. 

He started at Bozai’s feet and worked his way up. Slim ankles made way to shapely calves, the defined form of the muscle easy to see as he shifted around in front of the furniture. His eyes roamed higher to rest on lean yet muscular thighs. Suddenly he wanted those legs squeezing him, straddling his waist while he ran his hands up and down their length. Yes, the 35-year-old was an impressive physical specimen; jogging incessantly through the sand was good for something after all. Link couldn't really understand why he hadn't managed to snag himself a girl yet, surely someone was willing to look past his personality…

Bozai turned back toward the bed, a cloth in each hand. "Ok, my sparkling jewel! Get ready for a weenie cleaning! I'll have you smelling like the goddess you are in a jiffy!"

Oh, damn. There it was. Link immediately felt his ardor flagging, the blood in his body beginning to redirect itself to more useful regions. Bozai had to prove his theory right, didn't he? _Forget about it,_ he thought. _Close your ears, set your face and get a blowjob._ Link shimmied out of his sirwal to allow the cloth full access. The first wet swipe sent a chill running across his hot skin, and he tensed in anticipation of it traveling lower. Following the cloth, Bozai trailed a finger across his stomach, tracing the faded line of an old scar.

“You certainly have led a life of danger and adventure, haven’t you?” he remarked. “Let me protect you, and you won’t add any new injuries to your collection.”

The hero scoffed and almost replied with a sassy rejoinder, but thought better of it and remained silent for the duration of his cleaning.

Bozai was efficient and thorough as he rubbed the cleansing blend of oils into his skin, and soon enough, he tossed the soiled cloth aside to climb back onto the wide bed. "How's that for concierge service?" he asked.

Link's brain kicked back into gear with a start. "Truly, it rivals the spa package at the Hotel Oasis," he deadpanned.

Bozai laid down and grabbed the hero by the hips to roll him roughly on top of him. The noise Link made was most undignified for someone qualified to wield the Master Sword, but it seemed to encourage the man he was laying on. Strong hands gripped him harder and shifted him to a more comfortable position. "Oh, so you like a little manhandling, do you?" Bozai smirked, as if he had made a witty quip.

Sometimes I like to be in charge," Link replied, settling himself with a roll of his hips that made the other man breathe in sharply. "Other times, I don't. Tonight I wish to submit to your attentions. I'm being intentionally helpless, and don't you forget it.”

"Yes, ma'am." Bozai's hands dragged through the knight’s tousled hair and pulled him down to meet in a kiss. He was taking his dominant role seriously now. His hands and mouth were all over the hero, tasting, exploring, and drawing out pleasure with his every touch, leaving Link breathless and aching for more. The older man rolled them over across the bed and pressed him into the mattress. Stretched out beneath Bozai, Link sighed with pleasure as his nipples began to be lavished with attention.

"I remember how much you liked this last time," Bozai murmured into Link's chest, his hand applying gentle pressure to one stiffening bud, his tongue flicking at the other. "So sensitive." He looked up from his place to gauge Link's reaction and a dopey sort of half smile spread over his face. The irrepressible romantic seemed to have a set number of facial expressions when it came to certain matters: Either a smirk or a look of slavish devotion plastered itself across his face whenever he looked at his love interest, and it irritated the Champion to no end to see it.

Link pushed the man's face aside so it would stop distracting him, then when Bozai resumed his oral explorations, he continued pushing his head down the length of his body, hoping he would take the hint without having to ask, or worse, beg for it. Unfortunately for the impatient hero, Bozai separated from him, leaning back on his side to catch his breath.

"What's the matter? You don't need to take a break yet, do you? I thought long-distance runners had lots of stamina," Link teased, shifting around to face his partner.

Bozai's hand laid warmly on the dip where Link's leg met his torso, and he used his thumb to trace circles around the hip bone while he explained what was on his mind. "I want you to wear your present."

"The way you say it makes it sound like a present for you, not for me,” Link countered.

"There's something in it for you too," Bozai whispered, voice deepening as he slid his hand up and down the hero’s leg.

“Oh really? What’s that?" Link cocked his head and fluttered his eyelashes.

"Remember earlier, when I said I liked sucking... " The smitten suitor trailed off into an inaudible mumble, as if his liquid courage had chosen that exact moment to wear off.

"I do recall, yes."

"Do you also recall that I said I liked pretty girls?"

"Should I be offended? Am I no longer welcome in your bed? Am I not beautiful enough for you anymore?" Link got up onto one elbow, jabbing the flustered man in the shoulder with each question, but being careful to keep a playful tone in his voice.

"No, no, that came out wrong!" Bozai shook his head, dark hair obscuring his face. "What I mean is, I want to see your form elevated, so to say, decorated.” He stammered as he continued, ”If you were dressed up in lace and ribbon as I su- go down on you, I’d just, I’d really… that would be nice.” He was harder than ever now, and twitched excitedly against Link's thigh.

The Champion pretended to mull it over, hemming and hawing theatrically and rubbing his chin as if deep in thought. In actuality, he _was_ thinking about the outfit, but only about how his would-be suitor had managed to pick something that was completely opposite to his preferences. If he was going to wear lingerie —and he wasn't sure about that, _vai_ clothes were one thing, but this was something else altogether— he would prefer something silky, smooth satin in a muted green perhaps, and embroidered subtly with a geometric pattern. Not lace, not such a garish shade of pink, and absolutely no ruffles.

Link looked at Bozai, who was waiting with a pinched look on his face that he took for barely suppressed patience. “Ok, you’ve convinced me. I will wear it. Wait a moment while I get dressed," he said, then he rolled off the bed.

There was a changing screen in the corner, twice as tall as the average Hylian and constructed of delicately carved dark wood panels, its style more reminiscent of the one the Champion saw during a quick memory retrieval run through Hyrule Castle than the ones in the Hotel Oasis. Unable to stop himself from analyzing his environment, he focused on the screen. He wondered whether it was stable enough to climb; if he could stasis it and send it flying into a row of bokoblins; if it broke down into a manageable pile of firewood. He ignored the thoughts flashing in the back of his mind, took the box that held his present, and stepped behind the screen. Removing the clothing from its wrappings, he reexamined it. As he lifted the fabric, it came apart in his hands, and he gasped in shock.

“It’s stunning, isn’t it?” Bozai’s voice floated over the panels as if he were narrating the hero’s actions. "I told the saleswoman that I was buying something for my girlfriend,” he giggled. "I said that you were really petite, and she suggested this, among other two-piece ensembles. All the straps are adjustable, so it should fit. Unfortunately, if it doesn't, there are no returns on worn merchandise."

Link released a relieved breath. _Two pieces to wear. Thank Hylia, it was like this before I got my hands on it. I haven't accidentally ripped these clothes apart before I could even try them on._

Once he identified the top and bottom pieces and where the straps went, it was relatively simple to put on the outfit. The whole getup was composed of lace with a sheer backing that left little to the imagination. As he tugged the top over his chest, Link imagined that Bozai must have asked for one in the smallest cup size, as the triangles of fabric clung tight to, and barely covered his pectorals. Straps made of golden-colored satin ribbon stretched over his shoulders, and matching bows burst from the straps’ connection to the tops of the cups. A sweeping ruffle that covered without concealing his torso cascaded from the chest band to rest around his hips, emphasizing their feminine appearance. 

If the top fit remarkably well, the bottoms were another story. They were cut low under the hips and high over the back side, leaving most of his cheeks bare, framed alluringly by the edge of the lace. The garment was admittedly excellent at showing off the curves of his lower body, however uncomfortable it felt on. More ribbon bows clustered on the sides of the panties, and the curious Hylian pressed his hands against them in a futile attempt to flatten them down.

Their style wasn't the main issue. He knew for a fact that he looked good in whatever he wore. Mismatched pieces of armor cobbled together from the spoils of shrines, the century old remains of clothing placed with him in the Chamber of Resurrection, and the old standby of simply running around in his underwear all garnered him his fair share of stares, comments, and the occasional wolf whistle. And then… Link suppressed a shudder as he recalled the time he wore Kilton's boko mask into a camp full of the piggish red and blue skinned monsters. He'd badly misread the enthusiasm in the odd salesman's voice when he described the advantages the mask would confer. Once he had realized his mistake, he had subsequently tossed the mask into the smoldering remains of the bokoblins’ camp after slaughtering the lot of them, and vowed to never visit the traveling nighttime shop again.

There was a narrow mirror in the corner behind the screen with him, and he checked his reflection, twisting this way and that, to see the effect. No, nothing wrong with the way he looked in these, he thought. Preferences aside, the clothing was not the problem. The problem was his anatomy. As the panties were made for a woman, there simply wasn't enough room in the front to contain his assets, hard or soft. He tried his best to tuck everything in, moving one bit up and to the side, scooping other parts to the front... Testing the bounds of the fabric, he walked in place. If he took small steps, everything should stay put. He minced around the screen to show Bozai.

"Before you say anything, watch this," Link announced, and he twirled, just fast enough to lift the ruffles away from his body, and slow enough for his solitary audience member to get a good look.

It took a few seconds for Bozai to find his voice. He _stared_ at the dolled up knight in front of him as if he were a particularly succulent salmon, and Bozai was a starving Lizalfos. 

Link watched as the enthralled man licked his lips and braced his hands on his knees, leaning forward to exclaim hoarsely, "By the Three, you are exquisite! You're even more beautiful than I imagined! I wish I had one of those devices, like one of those things you showed me pictures of the statue on, so I would not have to rely solely on my memory." A commanding tone crept into his voice. "Please, turn around for me again."

Link complied, this time raising his hands above his head, which stretched the lean lines of his torso and allowed the fabric to lift even farther away from his sides as he spun. When he came to a stop and faced the bed again, he found that his extremely enthusiastic companion had crossed the room to kneel at his feet. He noticed he had found a new way to strike the man silent, as Bozai raised his hands without commentary to hover over the Champion's body. He looked like he had opened a box of chocolates and couldn't decide which piece to pick first. Finally, he parted the chest ruffles to each side of Link’s stomach and slowly eased the panties’ waistband down past his hips and off his rear.

With his hot breaths puffing against equally hot skin, Bozai took a moment to admire the erection jutting out above the wadded up lace. The moment stretched and the tension between the two men rose as they both focused on how the organ in the spotlight bounced faintly along with Link's heartbeat. Seconds before Link was about to run out of patience and grab a few handfuls of Bozai’s hair to thrust himself into the man’s face, Bozai opened his mouth of his own accord and brought his lips to rest against the leaking tip of Link’s cock. Slowly, he brought more and more of the hero’s length into his mouth while massaging the underside with his tongue. Once he could fit no more in, he sped up his tempo and began sucking in earnest as Link moaned in unabashed pleasure above him.

Bozai was much more confident this time around, sure in his rhythm and relentless in his pace. Link heartily approved of the change in his companion’s technique, and tried to tell him, but all that came out of his mouth were unintelligible groans and half-formed sentences. One of Bozai’s hands worked around the hero’s legs, removing his underwear completely before sliding back up to grab his ass, kneading a cheek with a similar rhythm to the hand that was wrapped around the base of his shaft. Whenever Link looked at the man kneeling before him, he was met by wide eyes staring back with such an earnest and satisfied expression that he couldn’t help but smile and stroke his smooth hair in return. He never stopped his performance, gripping his lips tightly around the throbbing organ, and took it in stride when Link came with a ragged cry, doubling over the dark haired man. Bozai disentangled himself from the Champion’s grasping hands and groped around for something on the floor. He asked, half laughing, "Have you been eating a lot of durian recently?" after wiping his mouth with the towel he had found.

Link staggered to the bed, flopping down amongst the pillows and sighing deeply. Bozai went in the opposite direction, making a beeline for the water pitcher and pouring himself a tall glass of the refreshing liquid. Drinking it quickly, he offered the same to the recuperating youth.

“Oh yes please. Thanks,” Link said as he accepted the glass of water.

“You're very welcome. Anything for you, my love,” the foolish man replied.

Link sputtered as he swallowed the last of his water. "Um, about that-" he began, but was interrupted by Bozai’s return to the bed, nudging him gently in a silent reminder to scoot over and give him some space.

After a short period of rest in which, much to Link’s relief, no lovey-dovey statements were uttered or anything approaching conversation was exchanged at all, Link climbed back on his date for the night with renewed interest and began kissing him teasingly. Keeping some space between their bodies, he reached down and skimmed his hand over the muscular planes of Bozai’s chest and stomach to end at the heavy heat of his arousal. It twitched against his hand, and the overjoyed man squeezed Link's thighs in affirmation. Link began stroking him slowly, curious at the strange yet familiar feel of someone else’s cock in his fist. It was a little thicker than his own, but not noticeably longer, and its owner seemed rather pleased with the attention he was giving it so far.

Bozai spoke up. ”Faster," he said, so Link picked up the pace. "Harder," he growled, and the swordsman obeyed, but only slightly increased his grip.

"I don't want to hurt you,” Link said, eyebrows raised in concern.

"Oh my darling, you won't. I'll let you know if it's too much or uncomfortable for me,” he said assuringly. After a few minutes of increasingly aggressive tugging and encouraging grunts, Bozai gently removed Link's hand and brought it to his face, then he kissed his palm and placed it on his shoulder. "That wasn't bad, but... I want to concentrate on you,” he said diplomatically.

"You’ve been concentrating on me all night,” Link countered. “Wouldn't you like a turn now? If my hand doesn't do it for you, maybe my mouth will." He licked his lips and kept them slightly parted, the invitation waiting on his tongue.

"I could never refuse a request from you," Bozai said, swallowing thickly, his gaze flicking between Link's kiss-swollen lips and his smoldering eyes. He reached down to rub the pad of his thumb across the hero’s pouting lower lip, and blurted out, "These gorgeous lips of yours— I can't wait to feel them wrapped around me!" When Link licked the digit in return, he groaned and scrambled back into the headboard.

Bozai rearranged himself on the bed, piling a stack of pillows behind his shoulders to recline against. His elevated position ensured that he could see the entirety of what was about to transpire. Meanwhile, Link contemplated his options as he lowered himself into place between the other man’s deliciously sculptural legs. His competitive side told him to see how fast he could make Bozai come— the Champion did love a time challenge. On the other hand, he could take the opposite tack and take his time, drawing out the pleasure into something nearly torturous. Of course, he could also simply try being obedient for once, and follow through with the promise he made earlier in the night to take directions from his companion. It was second nature for the hero to follow orders, both before and after his resurrection, and that comforting feeling of traveling a pre-set path called to him, and prompted him to speak.

“What would you like me to do? You can tell me, or guide me. Just let me know what feels good.” He kept his voice low and resonant, and was rewarded by Bozai threading his fingers through his hair to guide him firmly to his place. Perhaps Link’s sense of smell was deadened somewhat, or maybe the runner had bathed before his big night out, as all the swordsman could smell as he took a preparatory breath in was a neutral sweaty odor mixed with some faint remnants of floral perfume.

"You may now begin, O goddess of pleasure,” came the request from the head of the bed, so Link introduced him to the soft, wet heat of his mouth. It was only a few minutes later that he was directed to lower hanging fruits. He took each one separately and gently in his mouth, sucking and licking the way he liked it, but remembered to stay attentive for any words or movements that signified the man’s displeasure. The Champion found that if he listened for action words, he could tune out the extraneous pet names that constantly tumbled from the other man’s lips, and his concentration would not be broken by his internal groaning reaction to them.

Link looked up occasionally from his task, raising his eyes each time to find that Bozai was staring at him in reverential desire. "You are so... entrancing, my golden flower. I could watch you do this for hours.” Link fervently hoped it would not take hours for him to come. There was a soreness in his jaw already that he would not admit to and he slackened his mouth, letting saliva drip out to aid his hand’s lubrication as he moved it back and forth in tandem to his head.

As time went on, Bozai became more mumbly, his words coming out jumbled and clipped, if they were verbalized at all. An unreasonable feeling of satisfaction washed over the hero when he realized that he had managed to reduce his chatty companion to relative silence for the third time that night. He would have to remember what he was doing so he could recreate the conditions for the next time… _No, there would be no next time,_ he reminded himself. He was simply returning the favor. But that wasn't the truth, was it? He was not doing all this because he was being polite. He dressed up in a ridiculous outfit and put a dick in his mouth because he liked it. The spirit of adventure had enticed him, and then everything about the experience, from the way the hot flesh fit and felt in his mouth, to Bozai’s pleased reactions, excited him.

Moments ago, the sharp taste of pre-come had coated Link's tongue. Now, the sensation of incremental swelling filled his mouth, and he increased his efforts to hasten Bozai's climax. The hand on his head, which had previously been directing him with a light touch, started insistently tapping, then progressed to tugging on his hair before Link finally understood that he wanted him to stop. He popped off with a faint slurp and asked, "What's wrong? It felt like you were enjoying that.”

The overwhelmed man laid still on the bed, eyes screwed shut and breathing hard through his mouth. One of his hands remained tangled in the Champion's hair, while the other held tightly to a pillow. "Yeah, no, yeah, that... that felt really good," Bozai said, somewhat incoherently. "It's just that... it's been awhile since anyone's... and if I come now, that's it for me. I don't want to yet... having too much fun," he panted.

“Fine with me,” Link shrugged. “I'm ready for another round, if you’re in a giving mood.”

“Come up here then,” said Link's tireless lover as he sat up to lift the diminutive hero into place to rest next to him on the mounds of pillows. Link wondered what Bozai had in mind if he wasn't ready to finish. Another blowjob sounded great, but if the other man wasn’t up for that much jaw exercise, what would they do instead? Perhaps he would like to cover Link’s smaller body with his own and grind him into the bed until they both orgasmed.

 _Should I ask for that?_ the Champion wondered. _On the other hand, I’d be content to lie here and have this overenthusiastic man continue to explore my body. Might take less effort, too._

Laziness won out as Bozai kissed up and down Link’s upper half, his tongue lingering over the edges of his ears and the ridges of his collarbones. When Bozai turned his attentions to Link’s chest and ran his fingers across his lace-covered nipples, Link gasped in excitation at the new feeling, as he had forgotten that he was still partially dressed in lingerie, and he arched his back to offer himself up for more exploration. The older man had a way of zeroing in on the spots that felt the best and he exploited that knowledge, licking through the fabric and rubbing with his fingers until the hero’s nipples were stiff— and once again, he was clamoring for more action.

Link had remained soft while attending to the other man's needs, but he found himself rapidly expanding to his full length once the attention was back on him. The hand that was not occupied up top slowly made its way down the Champion’s stomach. Bozai’s strong hand started stroking his shaft and thumbing his head, then moved to caress his testicles briefly before reaching back even farther, rubbing the stretch of skin that was neither here nor there. Finally, his fingertip rested against a shockingly sensitive place, and he began lightly yet decisively circling against the delicate skin.

"Hey." Link pressed a palm to the other man's chest. "I've never done this before," he admitted as he scooted his behind away from the probing fingers.

"Oh..." Astonished delight lit up Bozai's face as he realized he would be teaching the intrepid adventurer something new. "Do you want to? We can take it slow. Really slow. I've actually been practicing on myself, you— our encounter got me thinking, and when I first came into town I sort of stumbled across this hidden shop, it's perfect. Here, I'll show you—" Bozai got off the bed and crossed the room to return to the vanity to rummage through a drawer. Squinting with a slightly unfocused, myopic gaze, he eventually produced a moderately sized wooden box painted with a muted design. Link raised himself on an elbow to watch as Bozai placed the box on the bedside table and opened it, removing a slim, highly polished, cylindrical object with a flared base, and a small glass jar of yellow liquid that seemed to glow in the room's dim light.

Bozai raised the object in his hand and rotated it around, presenting it for inspection. ”This one's mine, I won't use it on you, but it's meant to stimulate an area in the same manner as a finger or a..." He gestured at his groin, where he was maintaining an impressive erection. "And _this,"_ he said, lifting the bottle, "is an oil made from Electric Chuchu jelly. The same stuff you teased me with that night is much more effective and longer lasting when refined."

Link grinned. ”Seems like I really awakened something within you, huh?"

"I guess you could say that. I just— I, I really want to please you in the way you deserve!” Bozai said, and his eyes lit up with that look of slavish devotion again.

Link didn't want adoration. He may have been Farore's chosen, but he didn't deserve to be worshiped in his own right. He was working on fixing the mistakes of a century past, what he should have done the first time with Zelda and the other Champions by his side, and if he could accomplish that, then he’d welcome some veneration. What he wanted now was a distraction from the looming dual specters of his failure and his fate, a release from someone other than himself and his own hand. He wasn’t looking for a relationship either, especially with someone who required so much of his time and attention. Pushing aside his thoughts, he reiterated his new mantra, _Pleasure, not connection,_ and focused on the man who was looking back at him expectantly.

The eager teacher replaced the object in its box and brought the little bottle over to the bed. Climbing back onto the mattress and making a space for himself between Link's knees, he asked, "What do you think? Want to try?"

In response, the swordsman spread his legs for easier access. "Let's do it! But, um, fingers only, please."

"Gladly, my sparkling jewel." Bozai uncorked the bottle and dribbled a generous amount of liquid into his hand. "Oops! That might be too much. Or maybe not..." He placed the bottle aside, slicked up both hands, and lowered them, dripping, onto Link's skin. "You should feel a slight tingle now, and a sense of relaxation where the oil touches.” His hands slid into place, one to the front and one to the rear. He raised an eyebrow and continued to direct his partner. "It's very important to relax."

Link bristled from his prone position and pointed out, "I'm trying, but it's pretty much impossible to relax when I'm being ordered to do it!"

Immediately contrite, Bozai slumped his shoulders, dropped his eyebrow, and apologized. "I'm sorry, my dear. I'll stop bossing you around. I want you to be comfortable—" he halted as an expression of remembering something important crossed his face. "Can you lift your hips and slide a pillow under your beautiful bottom? I would do it for you, but—" he wiggled his oily fingers and shrugged. Link complied, but as soon as he placed the tufted cushion under his hips, Bozai tutted and crawled off the bed. He retrieved a towel from the pile on the dresser.

“I nearly forgot— we can’t be damaging the hotel’s property. I absolutely can’t afford any special cleaning fees! Be a dear and lift your bum again. Then we can begin.” His smile seemed to split his face in two as he carefully tucked the towel underneath the adventurer. After greasing up his hands again and returning them to their positions on his companion’s body, Bozai asked, “How does it feel so far?” He started moving his hands, watching intently for Link’s reaction.

The Chu oil had an odd texture, halfway between oil and jelly, melting on contact with body heat but remaining on the surface of the Champion’s skin, and so thick and slippery, he could only feel the fingers running over his skin by the trail of tingling they left in their wake. Bozai’s inquisitive finger began circling again, slowly increasing the pressure against Link’s skin while decreasing the diameter of the swirl. His other hand continued to slowly stroke his length, making Link's head spin with the opposing sensations. His breathing grew shaky, and he breathed out, and out, and out completely, emptying both his lungs and his mind to concentrate on fully relaxing. As the knight brought his attention back to the man sitting between his legs, he realized that he had been so caught up in his new experience that he had forgotten to answer his question. Bozai was still watching him with his head tilted to the side as he awaited Link’s reply. “That feels amazing,” the Champion confessed. “I never thought that area would be so sensitive.”

Bozai merely grinned in response and pushed the tip of his finger past his ring of contracted muscle, eliciting a soft gasp from the agitated hero.

The addition of the Chu oil was definitely enhancing what Link was feeling, augmenting the pleasure one thick finger was giving him. Bozai wasn’t kidding when he said he’d take it slow, but it felt so good, he almost didn’t care what speed he went, and he would have been more than happy to have his companion limit himself to just playing around his rim. He was amazed at all the different sensations, each one pleasurable in its own distinct way, emanating from such a simple input. Warmth and tingling followed the finger as it opened a space inside him, and he was surprised at how good it felt to be eased open, especially when it was done so tenderly. When the finger reached farther still and made little searching motions, he expressed his approval with a series of breathy cries.

Bozai gave a pleased little hum as his finger slipped further inside, and he began to slide it in and out without removing it entirely. Slow, achingly slow, feeling the extra width of his knuckles as they bumped into and stretched his entrance, Link almost wanted to bear down on the intrusion, but he caught himself in time as he realized that that was not the right thing to do. So he decided to rock his hips instead, as the motion, any motion, was preferable to holding still.

Over the background of distant music piping in from the lobby, and Link's various whimpers and exclamations, came Bozai's assertive voice. "Ooh, you want this, don't you? Yeah you do, you want it so bad. Don't worry baby, I'm going to give it to you," he grunted.

Link looked down at Bozai, who was mesmerized by the disappearance and appearance of his own finger. The smirk on his face faded in and out as he worked his hands into the hero's flesh. The Champion rolled his eyes and settled his gaze on the ceiling, where the flickering lamp light painted pictures on its exposed wooden beams. Link tried once again to ignore everything his companion said except for the important phrases, and Bozai's speech faded to a pleasant murmur.

Tired of holding his knees apart, Link hooked a leg over Bozai's back and moaned with the additional opening and stretching his new position afforded. He remembered belatedly that the hotel room’s walls were thinner than their opulence suggested, and holding back another, louder noise, he felt around the head of the bed for a pillow to hold over his face.

Bozai pulled the pillow off of Link and gently admonished, "No, no, no, don't do that, my sweet. I want to hear every adorable sound that passes your gorgeous lips."

In that case, he would give his companion something to listen to as well as trying his hardest to drown out the inane excuse for dirty talk produced by the awkward man, and the Champion let out a sound that matched the shudder coursing through his limbs.

Meeting only a slight resistance, another of Bozai's nimble fingers made its way inside the hero, and he apologetically removed the hand attending to Link's erection to reach for more of the electric oil. Instead of replacing it after lubing up his fingers again, Bozai started pumping himself erratically with his free hand. Link was about to protest at the loss of stimulation, but as his companion's fingers penetrated him deeply, searching and curling forward, a jolt of electric pleasure pulsed through him. “Oh holy Hylia, that feels—!” Link yelped. Now his hips thrusting in time felt instinctual and necessary to counter the rhythm Bozai was pressing into him.

"I knew you would like it," Bozai crooned. "Such a good girl."

"I'm...I'm not..." The words died in Link's throat. He couldn't bring himself to say it. He wasn't a girl, but he wasn't going to correct the misinformed fool, not when he was doing _that_... The exhilarated Champion let out a moan instead, and held onto a pillow to brace himself. Goddesses above, it was hard to think at all when he was being pleasured like this. Clearly, Bozai was happy to think of him as a woman, and to tell him otherwise now would be a poorly-timed disaster, though he would have to tell him the truth sooner rather than later. Link was really getting tired of being put into a box by the other man, and it showed that he really didn't know very much about him at all. Not like the swordsman told him anything to base an opinion on, but still. Bozai never asked, only assumed.

"Yes you are," the clueless man continued. "You don't have to be so modest. You're so good, you're amazing, and you’re all mine!"

 _No,_ Link wanted to say. Yes, they were together, but only for the night. He never promised anything more, and a part of him wanted to sit up and shake the older man’s shoulders as he screamed in denial to his face. The hero wanted this, but not from this delusional man. Link had always had a hard time refusing someone's request for help, and he thought somehow this was related. He could wipe the grin off Bozai's face with just a few carefully chosen words, but Link stifled himself. He wasn't about to sabotage the best night he'd had since waking up from his coma, and he sank his awareness back into his body.

Hands grasping more pillows, toes curling into the sheets, Link could hardly move but for the involuntary squirming of his body. The Champion’s legs began shaking, and pressure built inside his core, threatening to engulf him in a wave of release. If only he could get a little more attention placed on a sorely neglected area… "Please," Link panted, his voice cracking with effort. "Please... touch me." He had been reduced to begging. _How embarrassing._

Bozai rejected his request with a curt shake of his head. "I'm not going to touch anywhere but inside of you," he said, curling his fingers into his sensitive place again. "See that? _Feel_ that?" Link looked down to see the tendons standing out in Bozai’s wrist and forearm, and as he milked a trickle of clear fluid from the compliant hero, the instructor continued, "I want you focused on _that_ sensation, and keeping my hand— and your hands— off is the best way to do that. You have heroic amounts of recovery and a Champion's stamina. I think you can handle this."

Link sighed, chastened for the moment. The fingers working deeper into him and massaging that one euphoric spot did feel really, really good. Amazing even. He silently agreed that it was well within his abilities to handle this limited method of stimulation, and he focused on continuing to relax. An electric buzz spread across his skin from the places where Bozai had first touched him, and that combined with each plunging stroke of his fingers to wind up the tension and ecstasy pulsing within him to unbearable levels.

“I think two fingers will do for now. You're so small, I mean delicate, and I don’t want to push you too far so soon. It took me quite awhile to work up to this point, and despite what I just said about your abilities, I want to take things slow.” Continuing his steady internal rhythm, Bozai droned on, indifferent to the sounds emerging deep from the Champion's throat, heedless of the way the hero’s eyes rolled back into his head, and unconcerned at the other, more subtle, signs of Link’s impending orgasm.

 _How can he keep talking at a time like this?_ was Link's last thought before the waves of pleasure from deep inside crashed through him and obliterated his remaining rationality. He exploded into a thousand pieces of white hot relief all over the bed. As he seized and twitched, shuddering to stillness, he managed to request one thing of his partner. "Stay. Keep your hand...right there.” But after a few moments, Bozai’s fingers retreated and Link sighed with the loss.

Floating in bliss, Link heard the distinctive noise of skin slapping against oily skin. He opened his eyes to the view of Bozai kneeling over him, a blank and unfocused look in his eyes, masturbating with the rapid and efficient strokes of someone used to doing it for himself.  Before he could say or do anything, Bozai screwed his eyes shut and came with no more warning than exhaling an open-mouthed grunt, splattering his seed all over Link's stomach. “Don’t… don't move," he panted. "I want... to remember... this... This is what I need to sear into my retinas. And now I can clean you again, you dirty girl. We've made quite a mess." He blinked rapidly, unable to focus on any one part of the striking scene before him.

The hero wondered with some irritation at how long he was expected to lie like this, with their mingled fluids congealing on his abdomen. He shifted impatiently on the bed and thought about getting himself a towel.

Once Bozai kept his eyes open, he caught Link staring at him in disbelief. The love-struck man smiled. “You’ve found a new way to endear yourself to me, and I give you my heart in return."

They locked eyes, and Link realized in a moment of post-coital clarity that he had made a dreadful mistake. "I can't accept that." _Oh no._ He should have known it wouldn't be worth it. He had made a calculation, but he failed to take the severity of the other man’s attachment into account. He should have been paying attention to the signs. That look of slavish devotion. The pet names. The fact that he was planning to take him with him on his travels. The gift. He should have nipped it in the bud, he'd had so many opportunities, but he was too selfish to think that the situation would become untenable. Now Link was the turbo moron. Everything he had agreed to played right into Bozai's fantasies, and he had failed to do anything to fortify his own position, all in the name of his own pleasure.

"Well, I suppose that's a conversation for the morning, isn't it?" Bozai asked in a more reasonable tone than Link had expected of him. He heaved himself off the bed and walked around the room to alternately turn the lights off and to gather the towels left on the floor, then he soaked the cloths with water from the pitcher and passed one to the swordsman. "Take this towel in its place." He yawned as he wiped the remnants of oil and bodily fluids off himself, then turned to Link and helped him clean the residue off his skin. "It's much too late tonight to have a conversation anyway."

"I agree," the hero confirmed, and he sat up, wadding up the soiled towel in his hands and lobbing it across the room with a force that made the other man flinch. He pushed the surrounding pillows aside to peel back the bed covers, and slipped between the sheets. As he rolled around, settling into the mattress' softest spot, Link exclaimed, "This bed is so big, I'll never know there's another person in here with me!"

"Yeah, it's vast," Bozai said wistfully when he realized he had been abandoned for the luxurious comfort of a free night’s sleep in an upscale hotel’s bed. "Does that mean there won't be any snuggling tonight?"

"Don't be silly, there's plenty of pillows to cuddle with!" Link joked, and pushed more cushions into a defensive stack, delineating his side of the bed from Bozai's. The defeated man sighed as he extinguished the last remaining lamp, and he laid down with his back to the Champion.

 _Hey, if Bozai yielded to this so easily, tomorrow's conversation will be a breeze,_ Link thought with a return to his characteristic optimism. He fell asleep before the rattle of Bozai's snores could cut through the absorbent layer of pillows placed around his head.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	3. A Day Through the Desert

Link crept around the darkened hotel room early the next morning, gathering his things to the background music of Bozai's soft snoring. Sleeping on an incline had suited the older man well, for Link had not been woken once by the racket he knew he was capable of. Since the window in the room was covered by several layers of extremely thick curtains, and the sunlight had not awoken him, he could only assume it was morning. Instead, the Champion had been propelled into consciousness by his regular routine and the return of the stabbing, panicked pain in his chest that signified his failure.

_Another day you haven’t fought Ganon._

As soon as his heart rate stabilized, he had gotten out of bed without disturbing its other occupant, and he made it all the way to the dark lump of his trousers thinking he had succeeded in not waking Bozai. Then he heard the sheets shifting, and a muzzy voice called out from amidst the pillows.

"Come back to bed, darling. It's not time to check out yet."

“Ehhh,” Link mumbled noncommittally, trying to buy some time before their inevitable confrontation. He continued picking up pieces of his outfit, easily telling them apart from Bozai's by their vibrant color, visible even in the dim light of the room. Link had his clothing dyed a deep purple and green ages ago, and it never failed to cheer him up when he saw their dazzling hues.

"We can order breakfast if you like. I can have it sent to the room— you won't even have to get dressed. It will make it that much easier to indulge in a post-meal romp." The voice from the depths of the bed was getting stronger. Apparently, one part of Bozai had awoken earlier than the rest of him.

"I thought we could talk first." _Best to get it over with,_ thought Link, even if he wasn't exactly sure what he was going to say. He was used to being a hero, not a heartbreaker, and he had a feeling this was going to be awkward.

Bozai was sitting up now, blearily following along with the Champion’s clean-up quest. "You sure you don't want to wait until after we eat? I always find it easier to think on a full stomach." He sent a hopeful smile to the corner of the room where Link had crouched to search on the floor for a stray armband. He was stalling, the hero realized. Maybe this wasn't going to go as smoothly as he thought. Link paused his search to address his sleepy companion. Bozai’s eyes were ringed by the smeared remnants of last night’s makeup, and his hair stood out from his head in bent clumps. Link tried not to let the man’s disheveled appearance color his perception of him. Most people didn’t wake up pretty.

"Well, actually, no. I don’t want to wait. I've got a lot to do, you know… and I don't have a lot of time to spend on, uh..." Ugh, he sounded so insincere. How could he get the words to come out the right way?

Bozai had been listening to him stumble through his excuses with an expression that started out rapt until he heard the word "no", and ran through a gamut of puzzled, disbelieving, and disappointed before finally settling on outraged. Link took a deep breath in an attempt to explain again, but Bozai cut him off before he could start. "You used me, didn't you? You never cared about anything other than yourself. First it was the boots, then it was sex. That's all I am to you, isn't it? An easy mark to exploit?" He was becoming hysterical, his voice rising higher in pitch and volume, but as Link clutched his silks to his chest and struggled for something to reply with that was truthful yet wouldn't upset him further, Bozai suddenly deflated and sighed. "I should have known it was too good to be true. The first time was an experience beyond my wildest dreams, and this time? What a lucky accident that we crossed paths again! I would do anything— Anything! To have you travel with me. Even for one day. Please consider it,” he pleaded, close to tears.

Link rose and walked across the carpet to face the sad man in the bed and said, "You're leaving today, and I'm leaving today too. Can't we just leave it at that? One last night of fun before destiny takes us away to complete our separate fates."

“You’re always leaving. Leaving me.” Bozai scowled, gripping the bedcovers in his fists. “What harm will it do to stay for a few more hours?”

Link decided to appeal to the coward’s sense of self-preservation. “The harm will be to the entire country of Hyrule, if not the world,” he said firmly.

"Yeah, sure. You're little Miss Champion, how could I forget after I watched the entire bar fawn over you last night." Bozai was silent for a while, studying the serious expression on Link's face, and considered his next words carefully. "It's true, isn't it? You're going to go to the castle and fight that… thing, aren't you?"

"Yes." Glad that he had managed to get his point across, Link changed his focus back to clothing retrieval. ”But before I can do that, I need all my clothes.” He was thrilled that Bozai had come to an understanding so quickly. He was not in the mood for an endless debate on the state of their non-existent relationship, and quite frankly, he was beyond ready to get on the road. He began looking around at the floor again. It was hard to see with the weak light filtering through the heavy curtains. "I'm still missing..."

A sing-song voice cut the air. “Are you looking for this?" Bozai held up Link’s blouse. "You need it to leave, unless you don’t mind being dragged from the hotel in your current state of undress." His smirk was back in full force. "The guards won't bother to take your belongings with you either, and it _will_ take me a few hours to prepare for the start of my journey."

He threw the halter top over his shoulder and ticked off each point on his fingers as he listed them. “Taking a shower, getting dressed and looking fit for being out in public, eating breakfast, checking out of the hotel, gathering supplies around town. All of that takes time, time that _you_ will spend naked and defenseless in the burning heat of the harsh desert outside the city's walls."

_Holding me hostage?_ _Did that moron really think that was going to work?_ Link seethed internally at the jeering words, but he was careful not to let his emotions show.

Bozai kept speaking, unable to see the subtle changes play across the hero’s face as he contemplated what he had heard. He hadn’t thought to put his glasses on yet, but if he had, he might have chosen to shut his mouth instead of prattling on. ”It would hurt me deeply to resort to such tactics, but if I felt my life was threatened by a _voe_ in disguise, well, I might just have to scream for help at the top of my lungs!"

Link remembered that Bozai had said he was tenacious, but the method he had chosen to deploy went beyond mere stubbornness and crossed over into insanity. It was not a ploy destined to work on the Hero of Hyrule. The steel was showing in his eyes as he stepped closer to the bed, and despite his short stature, he loomed over the man who just threatened to sic the City Guard on him. An intimidating edge sharpened his voice as he said, "Gimme. My. Shirt."

Bozai quailed with no further argument under the merciless glare of the swordsman. "Just joking around, he heh. Sorry about that, I guess it's too early in the morning for humor. Here you go!"  Handing over the silken article of clothing like a surrender flag, he continued to wheedle and beg the solo adventurer into joining him.

_All bark and no bite,_ Link thought with satisfaction. He knew Bozai was a wimp, but he didn’t expect him to give up like that immediately.

Backpedaling from his previous assertion, Bozai said, “I can't push you into doing something you don't want, but everyone needs to eat.” He clapped his hands together decisively. “So, breakfast. I think that’s a reasonable start for your morning.” He then gestured towards Link with his clasped hands in a supplicating manner. "My treat? To apologize for my crass behavior. This might be the last time we see each other, and I'd like to leave it on a high note."

Link ran his hand through his hair, feeling the way sweat and sand stuck together to coarsen its texture, and sighed. The prospect of a shower and breakfast danced tantalizingly in his mind, but the threat Bozai made, impotent though it was, left him less than enthused to spend any more time in his company. His stomach growled, and the man in the bed cocked his head with a satisfied smirk when he heard the outburst. How would Link know that Bozai wouldn't try to pull another stunt on him later on? How could he trust him to play fair?

"I'll tell you what's going to happen," Link began, choosing to ignore his stomach’s complaint in favor of pulling on his sirwal. "I'm going to the bathroom. You're going to order breakfast and have it delivered to the room. While we eat, I will decide whether or not I will accompany you, and for how long." He continued to put on his clothes. "Give me your best arguments, and be prepared for disappointment." He secured his veil over his face and tied it over the back of his headscarf. "I'll see you back here in a bit."

 

* * *

 

The musical sound of splashing water reflected off the tiled walls of the shared bathroom at the end of the hallway. The washing area was divided into a few individual cubicles, each of which contained ample room for a bench, a shelf with a variety of cleansing products in gold bottles that matched the ones in Bozai's room, and a soaking tub. Farthest from the door, a clever configuration of canals ran along the top of the wall and let out an endless stream of warm water at the right height for Gerudo and Hylian alike to wash under. Enclosing each stall like festive wrapping paper were colored glass walls with matching doors.

_I could stay here for hours,_ Link thought as he stood under the powerful flow of the miniature waterfall, thoroughly enjoying the pressure of the deluge as it pounded the knots out of his shoulders. _The water will keep flowing; there’s no way to turn it off. Maybe Bozai will get fed up with how long it’s taking me and he’ll leave without me. Problem solved, easy as pie._ His stomach rumbled hollowly at the mention of food, and he turned his thoughts back to his shower.

He turned away from the open space of the room, dunking his head under the warm water, and groped along the wall for the niche that held the soap. The row of golden bottles back on the shelf were labeled in Gerudo script, which gave him a headache when he tried to decipher it. Unlike its companions, the small cake of soap with a tiny palm tree incised on its face stated its purpose clearly, and therefore, it was the only bath product that he had brought into the shower with him.

A plaintive, oddly high-pitched query echoed around the room, and Link froze, hand curled around his prize. "Yoo hoo! Ms. Boots, are you in here? It's me, your _lady friend!_ "

Link didn't know whether to laugh or groan at Bozai's attempt at subterfuge. In the fifteen minutes that had passed since leaving the hotel room, he had gained the necessary space to put his companion’s actions into perspective, and he found that his enthusiasm was, if not infectious, then reasonably tolerable. He grabbed the soap and brought it to his nose, breathing in the refreshing scent of desert flowers before yodeling out his wordless affirmation. The clack of shoes walking down the aisle toward his stall followed shortly after his shout faded away.

"I couldn't wait until breakfast to persuade you," Bozai said in his usual timbre as loud as he dared over the rush of the water. "Can I join you? Help you scrub your back, maybe?" His tone was innocent, but as Link looked over his shoulder at the man interrupting his alone time, he couldn't miss the avaricious look in his eyes and the rising bulge pushing against his loose trousers.

"What about breakfast? Don't you have to be in the room to accept the food?"

Bozai dismissed Link's question with a wave of his hand. "Oh, we have some time. The lady at the front desk said the food will be ready in half an hour."

_Thirty minutes to breakfast? We’ll have to fill the time... somehow._ If food motivated the hero more than he would like to admit, the prospect of getting frisky tempted him with unexpected force as well. The morning's schedule fell into place with ease as he thought about preparing to leave the city. A lap around the central market, focusing on the arrow shop, might be all that he needed. "In that case, hop on in."

Bozai shucked his clothes off with inhuman speed after carefully placing his glasses on the shelf next to the jars and bottles, then wove his way through the room without taking his eyes off the soaked swordsman. "Have you washed your hair?"

Link shook his head, keeping his eyes closed as water streamed down his face. A few moments later, strong fingers worked their way into his hair, massaging something sudsy and fragrant into it with firm circling motions. Link leaned his head back and gave himself over to being cleansed. Bozai scrubbed the grit from his scalp with his fingernails, coaxing out a pleased groan as well. Their exchange could almost have been platonic, and Link was indirectly reminded of his infrequent forays to the barbershop, though he was certain that a barber wouldn't try to whisper sweet nothings into his ears, or lick the water off them.

"Hand me the soap, please." Link was still gripping the small cake as if it were a precious object. He handed it up behind himself, and Bozai plucked it from his fingers to lather up his hands before sliding them around Link’s chest.

“Wait, before you start on the rest of me, I need to rinse my hair,” Link protested. The shampoo was dripping down his face and into his eyes, making them sting painfully. Bozai seemed to show a varying amount of attention to the task and the person in front of him, and Link wondered if Bozai had ever washed another person before. It was also possible, however, that the nude, wet Champion was more distracting than he considered himself to be.

Once Link was soap-free, he stepped back toward Bozai, who was shifting his weight from foot to foot in an odd dance of suppressed eagerness to continue. His foam-filled hands and partial tumescence completed the picture of his desire. "Usually, I'd use a washcloth on your skin, but I suppose my bare hands will have to do," Bozai said, beginning to run his hands down the firm slope of Link’s shoulders. He used a confident touch over his companion’s body and did not hesitate to voice the opinion he had on each bit of anatomy he was currently cleaning. “Your arms are so strong,” he cooed as he lifted each one in turn. “And what a tiny waist you’ve got. I can almost fit my hands around it!” The extreme physical proximity of the two men, combined with Bozai’s effusive compliments, made their shower much more intimate than Link was expecting, and once again, he found himself tuning out Bozai’s commentary in order to give himself some mental space. “Your hips are wonderfully wide,” Bozai continued, squatting as he soaped his way down Link’s body. “Have I ever told you that your legs are like two stately pillars?” Despite the slightly uncomfortable amount of verbal attention he was getting, Link enjoyed the physical aspects of his cleansing very much. Bozai’s hands were slippery and sensual, applying the right amount of pressure over every inch of his body.

After a thorough once over with the soap from Link’s ears to his toes, Bozai switched from giving compliments to asking questions. Admitting that he was curious about the scars that decorated Link's body, he asked how he got a particularly nasty one on his back.

Link balked at responding. First of all, he didn’t even remember, because it had happened before the Calamity. Secondly, answering would require telling him something personal about himself, and he didn’t want Bozai to know about his past. Better to have him think he was simply a traveler with a heroic streak, rather than the actual Hero of Hyrule. “I’ve always been reckless. Can’t really remember how I got that one.” Link hoped that his vague answer would put Bozai off his topic, but he continued to press him for details.

“Oooh, this one is long, it must have really hurt, yeah? And this scar here, it's a different color than the ones around it. Why do you think that is? How about this one?” he asked, tracing his fingers along a series of puckered scars furrowed into Link’s outer thigh. “These look like claw marks!”

“Yeah, maybe,” Link sighed, and stepped back under the water to rinse off the remnants of soap from his skin. “Are you done? I feel clean now.”

“Oh, could you stay with me while I shave? The mirrors are all the way on the other side of the bathroom, so you can tell me if I miss a spot.”

Link shrugged, still immersed in the water’s flow. “Sure, go for it.”

“Great, thanks!” Bozai went back to the shelf and busied himself for a few minutes, then came back for Link's approval. “All smooth?” he asked, bringing Link's hand up to his cheek to rub it against his skin.

“Like the rind of a ripe hydromelon,” Link remarked, stroking his strong jawline. “You didn't need me or a mirror to help you, did you? I bet you’ve been shaving by touch for years.”

“You caught me!” Bozai said with a touch too much indulgent enthusiasm. “But I do want you to make sure I'm not scraping your skin with my stubble.”

“That's thoughtful of you,” Link replied, pleased that he was considering his comfort this time.

“You're welcome,” Bozai said, and stepped close enough to rest his hands on Link's shoulders. “What do you say we see how close my shave is?”

“Oh. What did you have in mind?” Link asked, tipping his head up in anticipation of receiving a kiss.

Bozai bypassed Link's lips to speak quietly in his ear. Voice low and thrillingly rough, he said, "Turn around and bend over."

The command flipped a switch somewhere deep within the hero's brain, and he immediately complied, turning to brace his arms against the cold wall and spreading his legs slightly in a more comfortable stance. Bozai kept his hands on Link's body as he moved, starting at his shoulders and following the path of his spine as he bent down, to rest firmly on his hips.

“There’s not enough time to prepare you for what I’d really like to do with you, but since you’re so clean...” Bozai trailed off as he kneeled on the wet floor and slid his hands to the rise of Link's rear end, pressing his thumbs close to his exposed entrance. “Can I go down on you… from behind?”

“What?” The euphemism left Link confused, and it wasn’t the first time that he wished that the awkward man would be more direct and just say what was on his mind. The positions they had assumed, however, led him to believe that there was only one thing Bozai was asking for. “Sure, you can eat my ass,” Link said bluntly, hiding a smile against the side of his arm. Last night he had several fingers in there; what harm would it do to have a tongue rediscover the area?

Link felt Bozai’s shaven face press against his skin, then a few tentative licks started and stopped almost before he knew what was happening.

“Could you scoot over so you aren’t under the waterfall?” Bozai spluttered. “The water is running down your back and going up my nose,” he coughed, turning his head. “I can’t breathe.”

“Sorry, I didn’t realize.” Link shuffled over a few steps and resumed his position against a drier portion of the wall, ready to begin again without drowning his companion.

It took only a few delicate, exploratory touches around his most sensitive area before Link decided that he narrowly preferred a tongue to the thick fingers that had investigated him previously. It was a hard decision to make. The fingers had been coated with slippery, tingly goo that had augmented every pleasurable sensation. That oil had not been able to make up for the fact that Bozai's fingers were rough, his skin hardened by his outdoor lifestyle. His tongue, on the other hand, was velvety soft and dexterous. It supplied its own heat and moisture, and changed shape and firmness to fit itself perfectly against his curves and hollows. Oh, that tongue! If it spent as much time teasing and caressing him as it did forming stupid things to say, he’d let Bozai come along with him all the way to the castle. Zelda would understand. Link would explain the whole situation. He would have to explain what took him so long to get there anyway, he might as well make it a good story.

Every time Link thought he was finally fed up with Bozai and was ready to ditch him for more pressing priorities, the crafty man pulled an unforeseen talent out of his metaphorical ass and made Link defer his decision for just a little while longer. The sensual, massaging nature of the shower had primed Link, and the incredible feeling of Bozai’s tongue probing and bringing pleasure to an area he hardly gave much thought to excited him fully, and all the thoughts of his future travels retreated to the back of his mind.

Link found himself reaching between his legs, taking his erection in hand and wondering vaguely if anything would come out when he came. Another side effect of memory loss was his inability to remember what his orgasmic frequency had been like before his resurrection, and he hadn’t tested his limits since waking up from the Slumber of Restoration. Thanks to his answered prayers at the goddess statues scattered around the country, Link’s stamina was at maximum capacity, but his capacity was a separate issue from the speed of its replenishment.

Bozai hadn’t let Link touch himself last night, but he thought he could get away with it this time. He wasn’t likely to orgasm solely from external stimulation, no matter how good it felt, and he stroked himself in time to the forceful licks being pressed into his skin.

The rhythm broke as Link heard Bozai speak again. “My knees are killing me, my bathing beauty.” Bozai pulled away, easing himself gingerly to the floor, then returning his hands to fondle rhythmically at Link’s flesh. “I can’t keep kneeling any longer.”

Link stayed propped up against the wall, too far gone by Bozai’s attentive tongue and his own efforts to stand upright. “That’s fine, I’m almost… there…” He curled into himself as his release pulsed through him. Link heard Bozai's hiss of appreciation as his muscles tightened with the effort of his orgasm. Not his best, certainly not mind-blowing, but still worth it. He sagged against the wall, staring without focusing at the water flowing across the floor to fill the tub. A few deep breaths later, the pleasure draining from his limbs, he stood upright and looked over at his companion, who returned his gaze with a satisfied look of his own.

Despite his obvious erection, Bozai wasn't touching himself. Link gestured questioningly at it, but Bozai shook his head and stepped towards the towel rack. “I'm waiting.” The tone of his words sent a shiver of anticipation down Link's spine. _Waiting? For what?_ Bozai sure did know what to say to keep his interest. Link was leaning more and more toward traveling with him, just to find out what he meant.

They dried off with sumptuously thick towels and hastily threw on their clothes. Link's empty stomach was complaining in earnest, and he was looking forward to eating what Bozai had ordered for breakfast.

Not five minutes after their return to the hotel room, a knock sounded at the door, which Bozai answered.  He swung open the door, revealing an immaculately dressed and accessorized Gerudo balancing an immense tray of food on one muscled arm.

_"Sarqso!”_ the Hylian cried. “Please put it on the ottoman." There wasn't any other furniture that could accommodate the width of the tray, and the lady dutifully crossed the room to place the food down. Link didn't see Bozai slip the employee a handful of rupees from his nearly empty wallet, as his attention was focused entirely on the wondrous spread of food uncovered before him.

Bozai announced unnecessarily, “Breakfast is served! I hope you like what I ordered, I asked for their most popular dishes. The fritters are my favorite, you should try those first.” They kneeled on pillows around the tray and dug in.

Bozai had ordered enough food to feed himself three times over, and he pointed to each dish as he described its contents. “Steak and fried eggs— the meat is bear’s, which they hunt in the Gerudo Highlands.” Next to that was a rice dish studded with dried fruit, followed by the safflina fritters. Sausage and more eggs, scrambled this time, rounded out their meal. To drink, Bozai had ordered hot tea, redolent with spices and presweetened, perfectly balanced to cut the richness of the food. Link took a little bit from each serving dish, and more on his second round, then he scraped the plates clean after Bozai finished eating.

"You can expect more of this if you travel with me,” said Bozai as he wiped his mouth daintily with a napkin. “I know the best places to stop and eat along the road. Restaurants in out of the way locales. You won’t have to survive on trail rations and leftovers from the stable’s communal cook pot, I promise you that. I’ve recorded most of what I've discovered in a journal, along with some maps, if you want to start planning our route."

Appealing to his stomach, what a low blow. Link had to admit he was intrigued, even only to discover if he was bluffing.

"Okay. So." Link reluctantly removed the garnish he was chewing from his mouth to set it down on his plate and unhooked the Sheikah Slate from its place on his hip. He turned it on and flipped to the map function, zooming in on the portion of desert between Gerudo Town and the stable at the mouth of Gerudo Canyon. Turning the screen to face Bozai, Link pointed at the most important landmarks. "Here's where we are, and here's the end of the desert. If we walk, we'll have to rest at Kara Kara Bazaar. If we take sand seals—" he stopped to judge Bozai's reaction, and was rewarded with a displeased scowl, "—we can make it all the way to the stable by midday, and switch over to horses."

Coming to an agreement took less time than Link thought, and it was a compromise that the hero was not completely prepared for. Link's defenses had been destroyed by the one-two combination of orgasms and food on demand, and he quickly accepted Bozai’s place next to him on the journey through Hyrule. Link was reluctant to agree to any more than one day at a time, and was firm in explaining that not only were they not a couple, but he would not be entertaining any ideas of entering into a relationship with him, either. Bozai looked disappointed when he heard the Champion’s ultimatum, but he was resolute. He wanted Link to stay with him for as long as possible, and promised him, in a voice quivering with emotion, to earn his place by the end of each day.

“Don't you ever get lonely on the road?” Bozai asked with a disbelieving air.

Prompted by the remark, flashbacks whizzed through Link's mind.

_Crossing the Great Plateau in every direction with a hollow heart, he searches for signs of life but finds only centuries-old ruins, monster encampments, and enigmatic, dismissive, conversational scraps from the solitary old man._

_“Requesting my assistance, again?” Revali's sneering comment follows Link in the updraft as he ascends on the Rito spirit’s Gale, needling him in death as he did in life._

Brow furrowed, Link opened his mouth to respond with something ambiguous yet positive, for Bozai had stumbled onto another of Link’s sensitive subjects. Memories kept coming back to him as he hesitated.

_Mipha's soothing touch quells the pain wracking his body. She heals his mortal wounds and snatches him from the jaws of death time and time again, leaving him with gentle words that brighten his darkest moments._

_The crowd of children that inevitably dog his footsteps whenever he visits Hateno Town stare, transfixed, at the fire rod in his hands. He swings it over their heads, making a series of fireballs go shooting down the road, and the children clap and shout in amazement._

“No,” Link replied with all sincerity. “No, I don’t.”

Bozai huffed, not ready to end their negotiations. “If you’re not going to be my girlfriend, then I have some demands for you—”

“I don't think you’re in a position to be demanding anything!”

Bozai picked up the lone sausage on his plate, and with deliberate slowness, opened his mouth, extended his tongue, and began to fellate it while maintaining eye contact with the suddenly flustered Champion.

Link sighed, defeated. “Look, there's not enough time to argue the particulars. Let's get ready and we'll talk more on the road, or when we stop for the day.” Bozai grinned and bit the sausage in half.

They put on their makeup, taking turns in front of the vanity mirror. When Bozai let loose with a string of highly creative swear words after poking himself in the eye while trying to apply his eyeliner, Link offered his help, and the process was much quicker for his assistance. Bozai attempted to apologize for his crude language, telling Link that his words were unbecoming for a lady such as she to hear him say, but Link shushed him and reminded him to keep his face still so he could put his makeup on smoothly. With Bozai’s face cradled in his hands, Link had the sudden urge to kiss his impatient lips, but he reminded himself with a shake of his head that this was no time for distractions.

While Bozai made a circuit of the room, picking up his accumulated junk and packing it away in his backpack, Link made sure he had everything he came to the hotel with, even the lingerie. He didn’t want to take it with him, but every time he attempted to stuff it under a pillow or jam it in a drawer, Bozai was right there, looking at him with what could only be described as an expectant smirk. He gave up on ditching the outfit and folded the pieces into tiny rectangles to stow them along with the rest of his clothing.

Walking back through the majesty of the hotel was an experience that echoed their arrival on the previous night. In the brighter light of daytime, details that had been hidden by the more tasteful evening illumination came out with a scintillating brilliance that made Link flinch when he stepped into the open space of the lobby. He stopped, stunned all over again at the sumptuous display that rivaled the decor in the royal palace, and forced Bozai to make his way around him as he went to the front desk to check out. A new group of musicians were playing a lively, though muted, tune, and the music combined with the furnishings to muffle the sound of Bozai's conversation with the woman behind the desk. As his companion droned on, Link stifled his urge to climb the walls and leave through the window. The promise of a new adventure tugged at his spirit, and he was ready and eager to leave Gerudo Town behind. After what seemed like an eternity, Bozai finished his business and walked over to Link.

“Everything's settled! Now all that's left for me to do is get in touch with a shipping caravan!” the pleased man offered his arm for Link to take, and when the swordsman declined, he walked through the lobby with a determined air, continuing to talk as if he was certain that his companion was following closely behind. Luckily for him, Link was. “What's on your list of errands?” Bozai asked as they stepped into the bright desert sunlight that was hardly softened by the awning stretched across the entrance.

“Oh, you know, this and that,” Link said with a shrug of his shoulders. “Let's meet in an hour at the gate where the road out of town begins, okay?” And without waiting for a reply, he took off for the town’s central square, where the shopping district was located.

 

* * *

 

Link arrived early to the meeting spot. His errands didn't take him very long, mostly because he was the only customer shopping at each stall he visited, and he wasn’t in a talkative mood. After cleaning out the arrow vendor’s entire inventory, then splurging on an entirely unnecessary pair of opal earrings that caught his eye as he walked past the jewelry store, he made his way to a pair of communal cooking pots and brewed up a few extra elixirs to round out his emergency stash. Link had a feeling that his fellow traveler was not completely prepared for what lay ahead, and listening to Bozai’s repeated claims of insufficient funds made him doubly certain that he was going to skimp on some essential travel items, so, preferring food to elixirs, he cooked up a few dozen rice balls stuffed with a wide variety of active ingredients.

Link looked up at the unbroken blue bowl of sky enclosing the desert. Straight above his head, the sky was a deep and vibrant cerulean, and as he lowered his gaze to the mountains at the eastern horizon, the atmosphere thickened and the color leached from the sky, leaving only a hazy indefinite hue to contrast the dark cliffs and broken mesas that signaled the desert’s border. He could both feel and see the heat rolling off the dunes that flanked the beginning of the road out of town, and he turned to face the city gate, the searing sands at his back. He didn’t want Bozai sneaking behind him.

After a few minutes, Bozai came strolling up, conspicuous in his garishly colored _vai_ clothes and a big backpack. He gave the diminutive hero a once-over and lingered at his feet. "Oh, hey, those are my— I mean _your_ sand boots. They're really useful, aren't they?"

Link nodded.

"Yeah, I'd never have made it through the desert without them," Bozai said wistfully. “And to think, those are the only pair left in existence! Boy, I sure wish I had a pair of my own. Regular shoes don’t cut it for me anymore,” he continued, his voice edging up into a whine.

"Do you want to wear them?” Link asked, taking the hint. “I can drink a speed elixir to keep up with you."

“You would do that?” Bozai swooned with admiration, gratefully accepting the boots with overflowing thanks. He sat down in the middle of the road, swapping his footwear carefully so as not to get any sand in his boots. Link made a mental note to stop by Tarrey Town sometime after their journey ended to buy a new pair of sand boots from Granté.

They began their trip through the desert at a brisk trot. Although it was still midmorning, the full heat of the sun blazed across the ground and reflected off every surface, drawing all their resources into minimizing excessive movement and action. Even though the usually chatty Bozai set the pace, they moved too swiftly to keep up a conversation. The road was hard to follow as it wove around sand dunes and rock outcroppings, and it was obscured in places by drifts of windblown sand. Link fell behind Bozai, outpaced by the jogger's longer legs and superior footwear. He lost sight of him completely after rounding an extremely large boulder. Hadn't he reminded the fool to keep within each other’s eyesight at all times? The desert was lousy with monsters, day and night. By day, dangerous creatures rested in the shade, or hid under the sand, waiting with eternal patience for their next unsuspecting victim…

A warbling, panicked cry floated through the air from the direction of a nearby circle of rocks. Link swung off the road, which had dwindled to a faint suggestion as it skirted the hills of sand, to follow the sound of Bozai's yelling. As he drew nearer to the ring of boulders, he scanned them for any sign of his companion.

Tattered flags hung from poles jammed into the sand in the gaps between the rocks, and the remains of a wooden platform listed to the side at the far end of the ring, where the rocky ground broke through the sand to rise into a low hill. _An abandoned defensive outpost._ When Vah Naboris began to act up, the Gerudo were forced to abandon all their outlying forts, and apparently it was too soon for them to be put back into service.

_Shit. The place was probably a pit of monsters, and Bozai had walked straight into it..._

The effects of the swift elixir were wearing off, and Link redoubled his efforts at running through the sand. His silks were soaked through with sweat, but he barely noticed as he unsheathed his scimitar and readied his shield.

The earth sloped down toward the center of the primitive fort, and Bozai stood his ground at its lowest point, shouting and flailing wildly with a small dagger as a ring of Lizalfos hissed and thrust their spears into the air around him.

Link whistled as he ran, the sharp noise piercing the air and redirecting the monsters' attention onto him.

"Bozai! Run! Get behind those rocks!" Link shouted with the last of his breath, quickly recovering enough energy to knock the closest Lizalfos out of the air as it sprung itself toward him.

The sand slowed foes and hero alike. The Lizalfos compensated by jumping to and fro, but when Link switched his weapon from scimitar to spear, they didn't stand a chance against his greater reach. If Link wasn't so flustered by Bozai's unexpected incompetence, he would have taken a second to gulp down another swift elixir. In the end, it wasn't necessary. Conserving his energy, he let the monsters approach him instead, and stabbed at the closest ones while making sure none of them crept behind him. They fell back in twos and threes, but rushed forward again and again, only to be impaled upon Link's spear point. It was a long, slow conflict of repeated motions, motions that were second nature to the battle-hardened swordsman, and even when his overworked spear buckled and its recurved tip broke off in the belly of a particularly fierce Lizalfos, Link did not panic. He threw the broken spear at the swiveling eye of the nearest foe, and when it dropped its own weapon in shock, he grabbed it off the ground and used it to finish his deadly work.

Link paced around the empty fort, stopping occasionally to gather the body parts left behind, and whistled again. Bozai's head popped up from behind a boulder like a flustered octorok, and once he saw that the coast was clear, he scrambled out of his hiding spot, visibly shaking and panting as he walked over to the triumphant swordsman.

“I'm so sorry!” Bozai wailed. “I saw those flags, and I thought I could rest there for a few minutes and wait while you caught up to me. It didn't even cross my mind that there would be monsters here. When I came through before, this place was full of Gerudo soldiers. I’ve never seen so many Lizalfos in one place before— that was terrifying! I mean, I’ve fought monsters before, of course, anyone who’s been on the road for a few hours will have crossed paths with a bokoblin or two, but all those scaly bastards, all at once?” The recollection of his recent experience overwhelmed him and he snapped his mouth shut, shivering slightly. He was still gripping his dagger. Link gestured toward the blade, and when Bozai looked at it, surprised to see it in his hand, Link helped him pry his stiff fingers off the handle.

“You saved my life. I don't know if I can ever thank you enough!” He stowed the dagger and lunged at Link, scooping him up into a rib-cracking hug. Their sweaty abdomens stuck together, and Bozai kissed Link with grateful enthusiasm through both their veils.

Link pushed the ardent man away and said, “Save your gratitude for the end of the day. I'm sure you can think of a sufficient reward for my heroism by then.”

There was just enough shade cast by the dilapidated lookout platform for both men to rest under while they ate a snack of chillshroom-stuffed rice balls. Once Link was sure that Bozai had recovered from his ambush, he stood and pointed to the road with a rice-flecked hand. “That tall lump of rock over there is the Bazaar. We’re less than an hour away, so let’s get going. Remember to stay on the road, and make sure you can see me!”

Bozai had removed his veil in order to eat, and Link watched as a smile split his face in a way that he probably thought was charming, but in practice was closer to a leer. “It would be easier to stay with you if we held hands!” he suggested as he snatched Link’s hand and squeezed it. The smile fled from his face as he felt the sticky remains of a rice ball squish against his skin. He dropped Link’s hand and started walking away, wiping the rice off with a muttered complaint. “...She eats like a barbarian… lucky she’s so cute…”

 

* * *

 

Palm trees lined the shore of the oasis and broke the intense heat of the day into fringed shards of light and shade that danced over the merchants’ tents of Kara Kara Bazaar. Ignoring the man dutifully dogging his footsteps, Link made his way straight to the combination inn and arrow shop, which was built into the rock tower they had been using as a navigational aid. The few hours’ trek through the desert, combined with his fight against the Lizalfos, all on a foundation of too little sleep the night before, left Link yawning as he stepped into the oasis’ only permanent building. He was willing to shell out for two rooms if it meant he could get a nap in before lunch, but the lady behind the counter dashed his hopes by announcing, “Check-in time is at sunset. You’ve missed the morning hourly rate by a few hours. No exceptions.”

What were they going to do to rest? It seemed unfair to leave potential customers outdoors during the hottest part of the day, even if the tree cover and cool breeze blowing off the spring lowered the temperature somewhat. There was no way Bozai would let Link nap outside, not when he was bored and had nothing else to do, but the normally clingy man surprised Link by being nowhere in sight, once the Champion finished his business with the proprietor of the inn and finally thought to look for him. Link took his time to look around at the other side of the tiny room and bought all five arrows on display. He left to return outside, and wandered around the bazaar aimlessly, making small talk with the merchants and the tourists.

Link found himself at the back side of the inn, where the deep shade and refreshing breeze made a tempting place to loiter. He took out his Sheikah Slate and started idly flipping through the pages of inventory, stopping to look wistfully at the tiny icon of the Master Sword. It was safely stowed in the magical depths of his bag, put there yesterday before he began his sand seal races. It gave him great comfort to have it strapped to his back, but while he was in the desert he felt committed to his Gerudo aesthetic, and he wasn’t looking forward to the barrage of questions he would no doubt have to field if Bozai saw it on him.

The crunch of footsteps in the sand alerted Link to someone's approach. Bozai appeared, dressed in his customary outfit of skintight trousers, turtleneck, and vest. Turning the corner with an inquisitive look on his face, he broke into a wide grin as he caught sight of the Hylian leaning against the wall. “Hey, there you are, my bright desert bloom! Did you miss me?”

_Can't miss you if you never go away,_ Link thought. He replaced the Slate on his belt and prepared for a new onslaught of lameness.

“I feel more comfortable now that I've changed back into my old clothing. These fit me so much better than those tricky _vai_ clothes did,” said Bozai as he patted his vest affectionately. “I actually just sold my _vai_ outfit to one of the guys in the caravan that's trying to get into Gerudo Town. He was so grateful he gave me this in addition to my asking price!” With a dramatic heave of his shoulders, he took off his backpack and produced a small bottle from one of its pockets. “It’s wine made from palm fruit and honey. I guess it’s a specialty from Lurelin Village? We can share it after dinner tonight, if you like,” he concluded, and slipped it back into his backpack. Bozai’s eyes shone behind his glasses as he fixed his gaze on Link, who had not moved from his position against the wall. “How about an appetizer before we get back on the road? Since you’re looking like such a tempting snack over there. I can’t wait to taste what’s under your wrapper.”

That dopey line should not have had such a positive effect on him, but as Bozai moved within striking range, Link invited his embrace instead of ducking out of the way. He must be getting used to Bozai’s dubious charms, or maybe he was beginning to associate terrible pick up lines with orgasms. Either way, it was a habit he would need to break himself of before long.

Bozai used the fingers of one hand to brush Link's veil aside as his other hand slipped around his midriff to press against the bare skin of his lower back. He kissed the hero deeply, then drew back, saying, “Just as I thought. Sweeter than voltfruit.” Before he could get another quip in, Link grabbed Bozai by the ears and dragged him back in for another kiss.

_Why did he have to be so skilled and so awkward at the same time?_ Link wondered. It was like eating a delicious, fluffy omelet and biting into a piece of eggshell halfway through. He'd have to be more skillful at eating around the shell, if he wanted to get any pleasure at all out of their arrangement. Link parted his lips and met Bozai’s insatiable tongue with his own. Heat that had nothing to do with the climate flushed across his chest, and he moaned, grabbing fistfuls of silky dark hair as he melted under a rain of spirited kisses. _This is getting ridiculous. This isn’t what I had in mind when I said I wanted to rest for a while!_ Link thought as Bozai’s arms tightened around him.

Bozai’s hands slid down Link’s back with sure intention, using enough force in his touch to press the smaller Hylian closer against his body. His hands found their target, clutching generous handfuls of taut flesh while beginning to rock his hips against Link’s. Link whimpered high in his throat, a soft sound of submission, and it encouraged Bozai to redouble his efforts. Caught between embarrassment and desire, Link clung to the taller man’s shoulders and lost himself in the whirlwind of emotion that his actions were invoking. _What is he doing to me? It’s just a little making out, no need to fall apart over a few kisses…_ Link raised himself on tiptoes, straining to have as much skin contact as was physically possible.

His crisis ended when a drop of sweat, and then another, landed on his cheek. He leaned back to see where it had come from and watched as rivulets of moisture ran down Bozai’s reddened face and neck, soaking the collar of his turtleneck. A flash of disgust made Link push him away, but he left his hands on Bozai’s chest in a show of concern, thankful for the multiple layers of clothing that prevented him from feeling more of his soaking wet skin.

“You’re going to get heat exhaustion if you don’t eat or drink something with cooling properties soon,” Link warned, and gestured toward the oversized backpack lying behind Bozai in the sand. “Did you bring any elixirs? You should know better by now.”

Bozai wiped a hand across his forehead, looking from Link to his backpack with an unfocused gaze. “Must have snuck up on me,” he mumbled, stumbling over to his backpack and kneeling in the sand. “I do have some nice, icy potions in here somewhere…” He extracted a small bottle and popped its cork, downing the liquid inside in one long swallow. He shivered from head to toe, then looked back at his companion with a refreshed air about him. “Now that my hunger has been temporarily satisfied, why don’t we resume our travels?” he asked, standing up to brush sand from his trousers. “If I remember correctly, it’s only a few hours to the mouth of the canyon.”

The reminder of their plan wiped the remnants of lust from Link’s brain, and he latched onto Bozai’s words. “Great idea. The faster we get there, the better.” He started to walk, following the path around the rock tower that led back to the main road, and Bozai snatched up his backpack, scrambling to keep up with his fellow adventurer.

 

* * *

 

It was, conceivably, within the normal bounds of suppertime when Link and Bozai arrived at the Gerudo Canyon Stable. It was that odd time of day when late afternoon diverged from early evening only by difference of opinion. While the sun’s rays never reached to the depth of the canyon floor, the uppermost reaches of the high sandstone walls were still illuminated, casting the stable and its occupants in a reflected haze of yellow-orange light. A thick, occluding shade filled the hollows in the cliff sides, and while the heat here was not as fierce as that of the desert they had just left, it was still very uncomfortable, as well as inescapable, because it radiated from every available surface. Despite the oppressive, oven-like atmosphere, there were plenty of people milling about the stable grounds. Many were merchants, plying rare items to make into elixirs for the desert trek. Others were fellow travelers, starting or ending their journey to and from Gerudo Town. In the background, stable employees worked, or waited for more work to come to them.

Stopping by a pile of crates at the edge of the stable yard, Link addressed Bozai. “I know it’s not dark yet, but I think we should stop here for the night. Over there—” he gestured across the valley, where the remains of abandoned excavations could be seen peeking out from behind a small rock shelf, “—are some ore deposits. If you’re running low on funds, we can smash some rocks for a bit and get gems to cash in with a trader. We didn’t have lunch, so maybe you’re in the mood for an early supper. I can always eat! Whether or not you pay for lodgings, I’ll make food for both of us.”

Bozai squinted uphill at the immense stone blocks carved from the sides of the canyon’s far wall and said, “I suppose it couldn’t hurt to add some padding to the old wallet. For emergencies. Or a special treat that catches my lady’s eye. Lead the way!”

Over at the excavation site, Link spotted two sledgehammers laying in the dirt by a dust-covered fire ring, and scooped them up. Handing one to Bozai, he pointed at a likely outcropping of sparkling, dark stone and asked, “Have you ever mined for gemstones before? Even if you don’t have the strength of a Goron, you should be able to break open a good number of rocks around here. We can turn it into a race, keeps it interesting…” He heaved the hammer onto his shoulder and grinned.

Bozai returned the grin and accepted his offer. “I haven’t been able to deny you yet! Let’s do it!”

 

* * *

 

Stable dogs gathered around the cook pot as soon as Link began taking the ingredients for supper out of his bag. Attuned to the increased flurry of activity, they waited patiently with open mouths, bright eyes, and perked ears for stray morsels of food. Their diligence was rewarded by the silent flinging of meat scraps through the air, one for each dog. The clinking of rupees accompanied Link’s movements as Bozai counted out his freshly augmented life savings on a bench near the fire ring.

“Fifty, fifty-five… eight hundred and sixty rupees! Yes, I think that will last me a few nights on the road! I still can’t believe that I got a diamond out of that ugly chunk of ore!”

Link turned away from chopping carrots to speak to the gloating man behind him. “Yeah, you’re lucky, but keep it down, alright? You don’t want to get mugged!”

“Mugged?” Bozai blinked owlishly at Link and frowned in surprise at his request. “What do you mean, _mugged?_ We’re not in some lawless no-man’s-land— this stable is civilized! Don’t you know these people? Can’t you vouch for their character? Besides, I’ve got my own personal hero here to protect me!” he simpered.

“I’m not going to save you from your own stupidity,” Link said as he waved his knife in the air to emphasize his point. He had to admit, he was impressed that Bozai had managed to float through life so cluelessly and manage to survive for so long. Maybe he had something in common with the Smotherwing Butterfly, a creature that was delicate in appearance, but was well adapted to its unique ecological niche. Link didn’t especially want to witness when his luck ran out, so he reiterated his warning. “Keep your wallet on you when you go to sleep tonight. Anyway,” he continued, “dinner’s ready in ten minutes.”

Despite Link’s words of wisdom, Bozai continued to brag and chat all night long with anyone who had the misfortune to sit near him. A man named Sesami —who Link did know, but could not say for sure what kind of man he was—  was the only person to engage him in conversation, and soon became a fixture at his side. Once the sun went down and the temperature dropped, Bozai unearthed the palm wine from his backpack and passed it around, and Link listened to the two adventurers trade stories of their thwarted exploits for hours. 

 

* * *

 

Behind the curtain that ringed their bed and gave a semblance of privacy from the rest of the stable’s inn, the two men dressed for bed. Link changed into his favorite sleepwear, a soft, threadbare shirt and a pair of old, patched trousers, the bottoms of both of which had frayed away to leave the lower halves of his limbs bare. They weren’t fit to be worn in public, which made them perfect for pajamas. Similar to the first time they shared sleeping arrangements, Bozai removed all his clothes, save for his underwear, and climbed into bed after placing his glasses in his shoe for safekeeping.

“I’m glad I had enough rupees to splurge on a soft bed, although I did think it was going to be wider than the standard accommodation,” Bozai complained. “They have to know there’s a market for people traveling in groups who want to share a bed! Ah well, at least we’re well acquainted with each other. Sleeping together for the second night in a row. How romantic!” He gave a happy sigh.

Link turned from his place on the floor, where he was neatening his small pile of belongings in preparation to shove it all beneath the bed, to look at Bozai, who had propped himself up on one elbow and was prodding the mattress with one curious finger. He asked, ‘Are you sure you want to share? You paid for the bed, after all, and I’m more than happy to set up on the floor elsewhere to give you enough space.” Link wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to spend the night as Bozai’s personal pillow, and a tiny voice in the back of his mind reminded him to keep his tone civil if he wanted to change the other man’s mind.

Bozai pouted and began fiddling with a corner of the sheet. “What, and leave you to the predations of Beedle? I think not!”

Link snorted, but Bozai pressed on. “I’ve been watching him look at you all night. I want you on this side of the curtain, my sweet.”

“He wants my beetles, not my body,” Link insisted.

Bozai smiled affectionately. “So naive, even with all your world-traveling experience!” he said, and he patted the empty space next to him. “Come to bed. You’ve had a long day, and it’s just the first of many we’ll be spending together on this adventure!”

Link couldn’t deny that he was ready to turn in for the night, and he slid under the covers on his side of the bed without further comment. True to the innkeeper’s word, the mattress they laid on was soft and yielding, but there was barely enough room for them to fit side by side on the narrow bed. Link had retained the soldier’s habit of falling asleep easily in the most improbable and uncomfortable circumstances, and he was half unconscious when a shifting under the sheets and a pronounced thump shook the bed hard enough to distract him from his descent into sleep. Bozai was squirming, struggling to remove his last remaining article of clothing. He was doing a decent job of staying in one place, but the close quarters they shared meant that he was still disturbing the peace. Link rolled onto his side, facing the curtain and giving Bozai a few more inches of precious real estate. Bozai followed his lead, turning in the same direction, and slung his arm over Link’s chest, making the hero a grumpy little spoon.

As Bozai snuggled closer, Link felt a warm, stiff object rub against his backside. Through Link’s pajama bottoms, Bozai’s erection nestled into the cleft of his buttocks. “Please,” whined Bozai, whispering directly into Link’s ear. Gone was the assertive, confident tone he had taken in the past, which had so excited Link before. Replacing it was need and submission… but at least he asked politely. His fingers scrabbled blindly around the waistband of Link’s trousers, searching for a way to loosen them and sneak his hand inside. “I’ve been waiting all day for this. For you in my arms again.”

Link sighed, a sound that managed to convey both his annoyance and his arousal. “It’s not that I don’t want to,” he began, shifting slightly to put his hand over Bozai’s and tilting his head so he could be heard, “it’s just that you picked the wrong place and the wrong time for this sort of thing.”

“Wrong? How could this—” Bozai simultaneously pushed his hips forward and squeezed Link’s crotch, “—be wrong?” His voice crept higher, pleading quietly. “Please? It feels right to me.”

Link whispered back, “I’m tired. Like you said, it’s been a long day. There are people a stone’s throw away on either side of us, and this bed is too narrow. Someone’s going to fall on the floor if either one of us moves even the slightest bit.”

“Then don’t move,” Bozai replied. “Well, turn around first, then stay still. I’ll do all the work. There’s nothing like a good orgasm to send you off to sleep. Remember what you’ve done for me, my courageous hero.”

With utmost care and deliberateness, Link turned to face his companion. He tucked one arm beneath his pillow and rested his other hand on Bozai’s upper arm, and waited for Bozai to finish searching for whatever he had lost under the covers. Bozai lifted his head to stick a wadded mass of fabric under his pillow, then settled back into place. The muffled clinking of rupees followed his movement, then all was silent and still for the space of a few heartbeats.

Strong hands gripped Link firmly around the waist and pushed him down the length of the bed, positioning him into convenient alignment with Bozai’s groin. The hands slid to the front of his waistband again, and this time there was no hesitation in Bozai’s movements as he untied Link’s trouser laces and pulled them down just enough to expose the necessary area. Bozai curled his fingers around Link’s length, and used long, slow strokes to bring him to rigidity.

Skin met equally hot skin as Bozai brought them together, wrapping his fist around them both and squeezing lightly. Excitement rose in Link’s chest. He almost couldn’t believe that Bozai’s need had overridden his sense of propriety, but he supposed it was a natural progression from their antics in the bathroom that morning. It was the perfect introduction to public sex— the many layers of blankets they laid under muffled their noise, the narrow bed constrained their movement, and the heavy curtain that hid them from sight gave them enough of a sense of security to act on their desire, but not enough to let them forget where they were. Best of all, from Link’s perspective, the company they shared ensured their silence— no embarrassing commentary from Bozai meant that the mood would not be ruined.

It was too dark in their seclusion to see what Bozai was doing, but that was hardly a concern to the young man being pleasured more thoroughly than he imagined one hand was able to. Link rolled his hips into Bozai’s fist, straining his muscles and clenching his jaw with the effort to stay still and silent. He didn’t dare try to kiss the lips that, judging by the warm breaths on his face, were so close to his own, since he knew the wet, sloppy sounds would carry through the air to alert their fellow boarders.

Link couldn’t stop the tiny, breathy gasps that escaped his slightly parted lips. He buried his head in his pillow, but quickly discovered that he couldn’t breathe, so he turned back to face Bozai, pressed his forehead against the sturdy chest that rose and fell before him, and stuffed his knuckles into his mouth.

“I want us to come together,” Bozai whispered, and Link thought back to the previous night, when he watched Bozai flog himself to completion. He didn’t know if he could handle such harsh treatment, and he made a small sound of uncertainty as he removed his fingers from his mouth.

“Get on top,” Link said in the smallest voice he could manage, and he used his legs and feet to push his pajama bottoms the rest of the way off. He made a space for Bozai to rest between his legs and was pleased when the other man took his direction without delay. Link wrapped his legs around Bozai’s hips and crossed his ankles at the base of Bozai’s spine, locking him in place.

It was a real struggle now to stay silent, even with the occasional cough, snore, and other assorted noises that served as a constant reminder of the other occupants of the stable. Their change in position gave Bozai more space to move, freeing him from worrying that he or Link was going to fall off the bed, and he increased the vigor of his thrusts, all without a single creak from the solidly built bed frame. The conditions were just right to produce the familiar buildup of Link’s impending orgasm. A layer of sweat coated his skin, which tempered the friction of their bodies moving together, and he tensed under the surrounding bulk of the man rutting against him.

The pressure was too much to hold back, and Link gladly surrendered to the overwhelming rush of pleasure. He dug his fingers into Bozai’s back and bit into the flexed muscle on the top of Bozai’s shoulder, smothering the involuntary moan that came with his release. Bozai, meanwhile, had his hands buried in Link’s hair, and breathed a single, satisfied grunt into Link’s ear as he twitched through his own climax.

Breathing heavily, Bozai held his position while Link relaxed, releasing him from his full-body grip and lowering his arms and legs to the surface of the bed. Bozai shifted his weight onto one elbow and reached under his pillow. Lifting himself off Link and leaning back, he swabbed the mess of fluids that had pooled in between their abdomens off them both with the pair of underwear he had tucked away. Tossing the soiled piece of clothing aside, he laid back down on the bed, taking care to stay on his own side, and refrained from touching his bedmate as he drew the covers higher.

“I know how much you value your space while you sleep, so I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the night. Sweet dreams, my darling,” whispered Bozai as he settled into the soft mattress.

Link rolled onto his side, sleepy brain whirring in disbelief from his companion’s show of generosity. He tucked his hands beneath his pillow, hesitating for a moment, then shifted his leg back, hooking his foot around Bozai’s ankle. In that way, they slept through the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe how long this chapter got, but here it is, and I've got plans for at least two more chapters. Gotta see them through to the end of their adventure!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I appreciate each and every one of you!


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